


A Broken Idol

by Queer_Queen



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amanda Waller is a Matchmaker from Hell, Amanda Waller is terrifying, And they haven't figured out super-related insurance yet, Angst, Angst and Humor, Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, Enchantress-centric, F/F, F/M, Faustian Bargain, Gen, Genderqueer Character, Humor, Improper Use of Pronouns, Insurance people are hard to work with, June Moone-centric, Magic and Logic do not mix, Metahumans, More characters to be added, Multi, POV Third Person, Strong Female Characters, Terrifying Female Characters, Unhealthy Relationships, i made June Moone have two moms, mature language, not romance goals, partially non-consensual relationships, phermones and such, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:33:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 21,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7686505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queer_Queen/pseuds/Queer_Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is commonly understood that the multiverse exists ... millions of possible earths all diverging from singular points of change. In one world Doctor June Moone was compelled by an ancient evil called the Enchantress to break open the idol that held her spirit. When June Moone climbed back out of the Enchantress's tomb she brought the once witch-god out with her.</p><p>And in another world?  In a different world the thing that climbed out of tomb was neither June Moone nor the Enchantress. The ramifications of this change are far reaching and endless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Deaths and a Birth

**Author's Note:**

> Looking for a Beta. Message or comment for details.

In one world Doctor of archeology, June Moone, was compelled by an ancient evil called the Enchantress into breaking open the idol that held her spirit. Allowing this former goddess to possess the young doctor. Even though that June Moone had not been in her right-mind and had been controlled into making the action, she still made it, allowing the magics holding the Enchantress to over-ride June’s will, because in a way it was her will that freed the Enchantress.

(This is also one of the reasons why other archeologists hadn’t found the Enchantress’s resting place, magic and logic do not mix.)

In that world June Moone and the Enchantress were two sides of a coin, entwined together, but not actually together. There was no true matrimony between their souls, which was why June Moone could not access the Enchantress’s powers or memories, and why the Enchantress could not access June’s body - instead imprinting her image on it - and June’s memories.

But, of course, every choice has a consequence, or in this case June’s not-choice. In _this_ world June made a different choice. Something - strange, unquantifiable, it could have been the very spirit of the temple, or just her archeological integrity to not break things - caused her to take a moment, to look around this masterpiece of a finding. This was what would make her career, this finding would be the finding that put her on the proverbial map. She would go down in history for this!

Taking out her camera she spoke, “I fell down a hole at the top of the temple,” she waved her camera and light to the entrance she came from, “this appears to both be a burial chamber, and a trap. Shares some similarities to Egyptian pyramids in the overall structure.” She moved on to the skulls, “My estimations of the age of the temple are _not_ incorrect, there has been some process used on these skulls to keep them from wearing and aging with time,” moving on she begins to examine the artifacts, “the very walls are covered in dirt and grime, but this appears to have been a conscious choice … perhaps to allow plant growth, as you can see there are many different idols, all appearing to be around the same age.” She continues, documenting what she sees and smells.

And due to her inattention she did not notice that her steps had caused a slight nudge, allowing the dirt underneath the shelf holding the idol to crumble, allowing the idol that held the Enchantress’ spirit to fall to the ground and break.

To magic, this action does not count as a purposeful action. June did not mean, in any way, to harm any of the artifacts in her latest and greatest find (you could say the same about her compulsion but magic and logic do not mix). So the Enchantress’ spirit was released, and instead of having a nice, willing host, she had an unwilling host. Much as she did centuries ago, when she stole the body of a young woman, whose story has been lost to history, but whose mother placed just the right symbols on the Enchantress’ grave to ensure that if she were to escape, she would be punished for the actions she took.

Doctor June Moone did not know any of this, and while this narrative is important to the outcome of her story, it can be skipped over. All Doctor Moone knew was that a prized artifact had broken, and then a woman, looking like her but reeking a malevolent aura (and reeking other things as well) had appeared before her. Moone’s brain was able to catalogue several facts about her - the headpiece was strangely lunar for her calculated age of the temple, the bra was something from at least the 1900s (ancient civilizations did not consider breast coverage as important as ours do) and did her hair really look like that? - before the woman (spirit?) broke into dust and flew at her.

Doctor June Moone knew no more.

An ancient withered heart, wrapped in straw, beat once and then never beat again.

What climbed out of that ancient temple was not Doctor June Moone … but she (they?) were no longer the once-god called the Enchantress either.


	2. Field Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once-June, Once-Enchantress begins the trek back to their home... however, dangers are now lurking.

Some would say that the Enchantress’ will, age, and knowledge gained from over six thousand years of memory and experience would have overridden the young spirit of June Moone. Some would say that Doctor June Moone’s humanity would have overridden the being known as the Enchantress, who held no emotion, and was not truly alive.

Clearly this shows that most people do not understand magic the way that the Enchantress and Doctor June Moone do (after all, she found the temple, didn’t she?).

They were bound together, a new being, neither the ancient demon or the human. This new being, only days old, stumbled out of the ancient jungle, hidden within the base of a dying volcano. They struggled with their sense of self, while struggling to get to the nearest base camp from Moone’s memories (they had attempted to use magic, and it had not gone well for them, suffice to say a former human brain with preconceived notions of the ‘limitations’ of the universe, is not the ideal brain to use was creating miniaturized space-time bridges for teleportation purposes), the part of them that was the Enchantress struggled with these new limitations, the part of them that was Doctor Moone struggled to wrap her mind around the situation.

They passed over a small hill, reaching the top, and were gifted with the sight of the base camp. Knees weak with relief they stumbled forwards, before quite actually stumbling.

Eyes turned as camp members heard the commotion and watched as their local crazy mad scientist, who had disappeared five nights ago raving about an ancient temple, rolled and fell down the hill.

Picture waking up, and going about your day as a student interning at an archaeological dig site. It is not interesting, if you are lucky the lead professor will allow you to clean a few bones. Otherwise you help with the maintenance of the camp, nothing really happens, and you’ve used to the relative calm of your small slice of heaven.

Now picture someone you know, appearing after seemingly disappearing into the jungle after going on a mad-cap rant. She had blood streaming from her eyes, her hair - which is usually in a tight bun - is falling around her face, her clothes are tattered and dirty, over them she wears what looks like an iron bikini, and she currently sitting at your feet, dazed and terrified.

“Doctor Moone?”

“Someone call the medic!”

“Help me get her on to the stretcher!”

And this was how once-Enchantress, once-June, returned to the realm of the humans. Not with fear, or anger, but concern for the obviously mad woman.

…

The former goddess, and likely former Doctor of archaeology - because the new being could not picture being either of those things - awoke to a sterile, dark, hospital room. Lying back in a hospital bed their leg in a brace in front of them, they drew a long calm breath. Glancing around they could tell that it was nighttime, and also that they were no longer at Base Camp. Her new, otherworldly senses could feel that she had shifted her geographical location quite severely, and Doctor Sullivan’s ward in the Base Camp would and could never be this clean after the infamous Burrito incident they had been told of when they were June Moone.

Doctor June Moone, the Enchantress. The human, the demon. What were they now? Could they keep the name they were born as 23 years ago, or should they go by the title they had earnt what felt like a millennia ago. For a moment they pictured that, _Yes, I’d like a double macchiato. The name is Enchantress._ No. That would not go well. Only heroes and villains used titles, and honestly as soon as their thoughts moved in that direction they were violently reminded of the teleportation incident.

So, were they the Enchantress or June Moone? Neither side wished to secede their once-name. Names, after all, had power, it was a part of their magic and their identity. Something neither wanted to sacrifice. However … a quick flick through of memories confirmed something. Names, in this time, could be changed. A small blood sacrifice would allow the name to be magically accurate as well.

Then a full body shiver and wince swept their body. A few tears gathered, slipping down their face. Kittens and puppies … NO. Just no. When they were healthier they would gain a license and go hunting for animals which could be legally and morally hunted. The ease would be decreased but … it would be worth it.

(Modern morality is both a hindrance and a fashionable accessory to the once-Enchantress - although as the hours drive on her spirit is further and further eclipsed by the new creation - this new ability to feel for creatures that she had never even considered before, to worry and love what should be perfect strangers who merely were able to project their voice across the world. These new emotions, were beautiful and worrying.)

“Oh!” Shifting they turned to find what was clearly a nurse bustling over, “You’re awake, this is amazing. You’ve been asleep since you were found!”

They were shocked, “Really?”  And as the nurse continued to move around them, checking their vitals and explaining how she had been airlifted out of the base with a broken leg - teleportation would wait a **long** time - they did not notice how they spoke fluent spanish with the nurse.

...

Far away, a box full of the former Doctor June Moone’s possessions, as well as everything taken from her before her transportation to the hospital was enroute to a secret location.

In the box a small camera lay, inconspicuous against the bloody shirt and ancient chest piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok for continuity help im gonna add the dates to the end of the chapter, just so you guys know when stuff happens.
> 
> june stumbled back to the base camp "on the 13th of july at 1300"
> 
> Date Now: 13/07/2015


	3. Doctors and Flies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June-Enchantress is attempting to leave ... still. And more people are becoming aware of their existence.

Getting out of the hospital was a tiny bit of a trial. Well, it was a shit-show, but that is to be expected when a patient who was airlifted in with a broken leg and in some kind of coma, wakes up, and then the morning after waking demands to be allowed to leave. It’s an even further shit-show when their insurance agency refused to pay because they took ‘unnecessary risk’. This led to their first use of magic which did not immediately blow up in their faces (although it would later), a mild compulsion.

The doctor was clearly getting angrier by the minute, “You cannot leave this hospital until you pay the necessary funds! It’s not cheap to be airlifted out of a mountain base! Neither is it **cheap** **to be given services at this hospital.** ”

“You will allow me to leave without paying any funds.” From their memories this worked in a movie, so why not here?

“I WILL DO NO SUCH THING!” The red-faced man shouted. So Jedi mind tricks clearly were not a good idea.

“I DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY!” They were, after all, a 23 year old Doctor, all their money was spent on food, the past eight years of university, and the tickets to Central Mexico.

“That is  **_not my problem._ ** ”

“WELL IT IS NOW!”

The doctor paused, his face leaching of colour before he nodded calmly, “You’re right, it is. Let me go get the foreign insurance benefit forms, I will help you through this.” And he moved out of her former room, nodding at a nurse whose eyebrows were raised into her fringe. June-Enchantress shuffled under the middle aged woman’s impressed stare, before shuffling further into the room, hiding them from sight.

Soon the doctor returned with the forms and proceeded to help them fill out an unlawful denial of insurance claim. There was no definite time frame but the Doctor Martinez assured them that this would happen quicker because of something he had done that they had not noticed but signed-on-the-dotted-line anyway.

...

As it turned out ‘quicker’ was equivalent to between three weeks and three months. Which meant that June-Enchantress was stuck living out of the hospital for that time. Luckily the condition of their leg allowed them the ‘free’ accommodation, otherwise they would have to pay for a motel room somewhere. 

While sleeping in a local hospital with nothing much to do wasn’t appealing, being fined or forced to pay for something their insurance should have payed for was even more unappealing. So June-Enchantress just tried to relax, and beg the nurses for some change so they could have cheap fast food instead of hospital gruel. 

…

Far away, in an office based around finding new and powerful metahumans for the might of the United States of America, a researcher was going through the files recently procured from an agent in the Mexican government, who had sent the evidence as part of a package of ‘strange situations’ which she was told to look out for. Typically, of every one hundred tips, there was one possible metahuman, and of every fifty possible metahumans one made the cut as an actual metahuman, let alone a metahuman which was insanely powerful. This researcher had never found one, and so when the video file came on was not really paying attention until …

Heart-in-throat the researcher paused the video and slowly, ever so slowly, rewinded it. He pressed play.

The Doctor babbled away, and then stopped, turning to something that should have been a shadowed corner, and instead was … here the video was paused and the researcher scrambled through the files, checking for the Doctor’s profile picture. The two pictures now side by side showed the researcher that the woman holding the camera was the twin of the woman (creature?) in the corner. He resumed the video and watched as the creature leapt. Here the camera fell, rolling for a bit, and stopping at the perfect angle for the researcher to watch as the Doctor threw back her head and screamed as her image and the creatures image flashed and overlayed over one another before …

What was probably no longer the Doctor fell to her knees, before turning her head to the camera, like an animal’s her eyes flared against the light from the dropped torch. Reaching forward she grabbed the camera and the video stopped.

Calmly and quietly the research created a new document and summarized his findings, as that printed he created a new file and placed copies of the full report from their agent in Mexico in it, before placing that in a thumbdrive, collecting it and taking the small file.

Then, almost stopping after a flash of terror and heart wrenching excitement, the researcher moved forward, past the others at their desks, who fell silent and watched as he walked to the boss’s office and knocked on Amanda Waller’s door.

“Enter,” her voice called.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Come into my parlour’ said the spider to the fly.
> 
> Last Chapter: 13/07/2015  
> Date Now (for June-Enchantress): 16/07/2015


	4. Funerals and Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does 'Major Character Death' count if the characters have been squished into a new being? Amanda Waller approaches

Calmly Amanda Waller looked over the surveillance footage of her most recent interest. This metahuman was likely not of human origin, similar in many ways to Superman, however she was only able to ascertain that fact from her researchers files on the ancient temple they found through the use of Doctor June Moone’s notes - whose leaps in logic made Harley Quinn look rationale. June Moone appeared to be like any other person, if Amanda Waller was not Amanda Waller - and indeed several researchers had mentioned it - she would be surprised by the idea of an ancient being pretending to have a broken leg, but she is not she has seen worse. Overall the security footage did very little to create any doubt about her human status.

Except for the language thing. It was stated very clearly in Doctor Moone’s file that she could read and write ancient Nahuatl, and other forms of Aztec speech, and well as Latin. She did not speak Spanish. Or Portuguese. However those were the two languages Doctor Moone’s body spoke to the staff at the hospital and the fast food place she went to whenever she could beg one of the cleaning lady’s for money (the nurses had begun to refuse to give money to her, claiming fast food was bad for her health while they ate the exact same stuff on their breaks).

(All the Quesadillas and Tortillas the thing in Doctor Moone’s body kept eating at a steady rate did not make Amanda Waller crave something that was not toxicologist and dietician approved.)

But overall there was no evidence of any true supernatural abilities, the creature’s main focus appeared to be getting out of the hospital, out of Mexico and back to England.

This, of course, would not do.

At all.

But how to approach something that is showing no signs of hostility? Which was why she had her researchers working around the clock for some form of leverage over the creature. Some weakness or bargaining chip.

The insurance company could only delay their response for another six weeks before the media’s attention was caught. If the creature was in or from the grand ol' USA, Waller would have been able to do so much more, but instead, the creature had some kind of Aztec origin and June Moone was a British native.

…

It had been two weeks since The Enchantress and Doctor June Moone died. And because they were in Mexico instead of home, they were unable to hold any kind of funeral or memorial. They had hoped to be in England by now, to be back in the city where June Moone had grown up, and while they could no longer to afford to live in Chelsea, on her birthday June Moone had often chosen to walk by her family's old house.

However perhaps that was a good thing, while June Moone had experience planning western funerals, the Enchantress had quite a bit of experience in ancient ritual-like funerals which would have been very hard to explain to witnesses. But what were the supposed to do? They couldn’t just pretend to forget about it. That would be a betrayal of who they were before. Even if the Enchantress was a spirit of blood and death and glory, and in a way Doctor June Moone was as well - getting research grants is considered quite the blood sport in Cambridge - they still deserved to be respected.

A small funeral would do, it’s not like June Moone had anyone to tell, an estranged father who was likely still in prison for armed robbery, a mother who was taken from the world too soon before the marriage equality bill passed, and a beautiful step-mother who had no rights to June, even if she had helped raise her. By the time June had fought her way out of the system she was sixteen, not thirteen, and ready to go to university. By the time she finished her degree her to-be stepmother had gained a position as friend, but not mother, the years in foster care had stopped those feelings from truly developing.

But they digress, a small funeral pyre, with cuttings of Doctor June Moone’s hair (from an old hairbrush, perhaps?), and a flower imbued with magic (the initial thought had been animal sacrifice, but flowers were much more symbolic - at least that's how they explained it to themself without sounding too sappy), in an alley somewhere near their shared apartment in the town of Cambridge just outside of university (Doctor June Moone valued the Cambridge library just slightly below available grants). And then what?

That was a good question … what were they supposed to do?

Somehow they knew that they could not return to being an archeologist, in the same way they knew that they could not return to being a god-witch whose thrall reached across nations. It just wouldn’t feel _right_. After all new identity, new job. Maybe they could go back to university? Study for a new career? The mass of languages they now knew was a lot more useful than once-June Moone could have anticipated, perhaps they could study to be a linguist?

But what on earth do linguists do?

It would be relaxing to go back to university, they could just figure everything out from there …

And then they were brought back to earth by a startling and depressing realization. Funds. How on earth were they going to deal with that? It’s not like they could publicize their once-tomb to the world, it would just be too dangerous for them, and of course, June Moone had had not further plans then find the fabled tomb. She had spent her last thousand dollars on air fair and equipment.

Groaning they flopped back onto the grass glaring up at the sky. Maybe they should become an evil rule of the earth, at least then they wouldn’t have to worry about money.

…

Far away Amanda Waller watched as what was once June Moone lay in the hospital’s recreation yard, a light smirk on her face. This was it, the power they had been waiting for that would allow them to bring it in. What’s more, the old recordings from the creature’s activities this morning had arrived at the same time as a the creature’s weak spot. Moving away she began to order her men to prepare. They had a monster to catch.

Moving away from the screen left Doctor Moone of several hours ago laying in the yard, which, before her entrance, had been bare dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god guuuuuyyyyyyss I have 4 bookmarks!!!!!
> 
> Also, after I finish this I'm going to write another one except it will not be humorous, there will be a lot of dysphoria, crying and mental health issues ... so stay tuned!
> 
> Last Chap: 16/07/2015  
> Date Now: 3/08/2015


	5. Enter Rick Flag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Enter Rick Flag stage right, accompanied by ensemble cast, led by Prima Ballerina Amanda Waller)

The strike team was mobilized. And Amanda Waller’s new possible bitch-boy was serving on it. She was taking a calculated risk including him. Because while the man was a diehard patriot he was also morally righteous. However the thing in June Moone looked a lot like Flag’s type of significant other, tall to a point, boring blonde hair, wide set eyes, and practically radiating that deer-in-headlights vibe. 

Hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in her face.

…

Three weeks in it was a pretty normal day for Enchantress-June. Breakfast was disgusting. Lunch was perfect. The stash of cash for cheap fast food was looking taller than it probably should be. The nurses disapproved. Hobbling around on crutches was hard. No physio-therapy because they couldn’t afford it. And there was still no word of the insurance forms.

They could be here for another five weeks. 

Moving into the courtyard Enchantress-June settled the crutches against the grass before flopping down as well. An unbidden thought to just magic the broken leg away rose and was crushed by a wince at the idea of what else could be accidentally magiced away. As more time was spent as itself the new entity was able to ingrain more magic-logic into the human-logic, allowing them to understand exactly how deep in shit they could have been if the teleportation spell hadn’t exploded instead of letting them through it. The idea of crossing dimensional barriers as a half-human terrified them, the idea of their father finding out about this and then destroying Enchantress-June scared the living daylights out of them. And their mother … and light shudder passed across their shoulders … their mother would skin them alive, kill them and then kill their fore-bearers as well.

Fore-bearers.

Did this mean that Enchantress and June were their mothers?

This both made sense and was creepy. After all they still wore the skin of June, and could likely summon the skin of the Enchantress as well. No. best not to think about that. What’s dead is dead, and as long as Enchantress-June stayed on earth they would stay alive.

Taking a fortifying breath Enchantress-June moved their eyes back to the tattered paperback they had brought out with them. After learning about their situation the nurses had brought a selection of books for the poor exiled British woman (witch-human-god-doctor) and they had hoped to do something with their outdoor time instead of staring off into the distance and creeping everyone out.

They were also curious to learn if they could read in the languages they had absorbed as well, the linguist future looked quite promising.

Opening the book to the first page Enchantress-Moone took a sip of their coke and read.

…

The hacking coughs of the target brought Flag’s eyes back to the screen. Had something happened? Moving closer to the screen he could see that she was doubled over coughing, before he could ask the tech anything the target had stood up and was yelling at the hospital in Spanish. Rick noticed as some of the researchers blushed, what were they saying?

“Come on boys I don’t need any of this Spanish bullshit, give me English!” The head of the task force, Sergeant Kowalski barked.

On screen, a woman, who he quickly identified as one of the target’s ‘friends’ (and wasn’t it sad that all her friends appeared to be support staff) opened a window on the third storey and yelled back at her.

Before any more words from the head of the team could be spewed quotes began to fill the screen.

**TARGET: What is this bullshit? Elena I know this is yours why did you give me this crap? Why did you give me this? Do I seem like someone who needs a little more porn in their life?**

**A.1: It is not porn! This is elegantly written American …**

**TARGET: Fifty shades of Grey is ELEGANT???**

The text flashed on screen at once, even as the two women continued to scream at each other on screen. From the corner of his eye he could see the team head’s face turn a dark red colour. One of the researchers spoke up, “We could continue to translate the text but none of it is indicative of the target’s situation or relationships.”

The now red-faced Kowalski nodded, “Good call. Record anything of importance.” Turning away he called, “Flag, with me.”

As Rick was leaving the room he heard a last stir of conversation between the researchers, “I never thought I’d see the day two women had a dick measuring contest.” 

Another huffed out a laugh “Please, you should come to my place sometime. My aunt and my mom … it’s just not something you want to be a part of.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.1 stands for accessory one  
> Any better title ideas?  
> Also should the summary be different?  
> FIVE BOOKMARKS!!!
> 
> Last Chap: 3/08/2015  
> Date Now: 11/08/2015  
> (only like a week has passed since the last chapter. waller sure moves fast ... or maybe june-enchantress is just a big fuck up? XD)


	6. A Hurried Exit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extraction of the Target commences ... (+ a side cameo!!!)

The mission was supposed to go down at night. Sergeant Kowalski wanted the extraction to be clean and simple, with no interference from the hospital staff, they would change the few security feeds that the hospital had to the night before, sweep in and sweep out with the target. The keywords in this case were “supposed to”. Because just as they were beginning to set up for the coming night some else arrived. 

Flag first heard about this new player when a cautious voice called out, “Sir, unknown quantity arriving at the hospital.”

“That car is too nice for this town.”

Looking at the screen Flag saw a fancy car, all black metal and low on the ground. He didn’t have the kind of knowledge to know exactly what brand it was, but he had a dark suspicion that the person who owned it was after their target as well.

“Who is that?”

Someone dialled it into the boss. Even though Flag wore no earphones he could see the wince Kowalski gave to Waller’s response.

“We need to extract the target now, Waller’s orders.” There was a pause, a brief moment of stillness, after his announcement, and then everyone was in movement, heading to the armoury and suiting up. Flag watched the screen for another moment, hoping to see who was in the car, but when no one came out he moved to go suit up as well.

And so with the bare minimum (15 seconds) of prep time the soldiers were out of their moving command station. The light was just starting to dim, but it was not night. Someone came forward with bolt cutters to break through the back door and then they were in.

The hospital was not a nice hospital, it was a rural place whose main customers were people who got a cold and hikers with torn ligaments, and it showed. The pain was worn away, the building itself was small with only three floors, and overall it was too easy for a group of soldiers to sneak into the target’s ground floor room.

Two other soldiers of the the eight person task force entered, before gesturing Flag to enter as well. The target’s room was tiny, although it appeared to be in better state then the hallway,  everywhere he looked there were piles of crumpled newspapers, books, and a small bin in the corner with several crumpled wrappers. Absentmindedly her listened as one of the researchers quickly recorded everything in the room, brandishing his camera as he flipped through newspapers and across the backs of the books.

Finally his gaze moved to the target, who was fast asleep on the room’s tiny bed. She was kind of beautiful, not in that hollywood way, but her smile was so sweet, even as she slept. He knew she smiled a lot, just from the video footage he could tell that, although her previous files from  _ before _ showed a very serious young woman. He still didn’t know why he and the task force had been sent out to monitor and grab her, she appeared to be perfectly normal to him (in later years, after much more experience, this would be a sign to Flag that the hostile they encountered was more dangerous than he could possibly understand, but now he just went with his gut).

Someone behind him grunted, “Flag stop staring and grab her.” Well there was Sergeant dickhead back at it again with the creepy one liners.

He was half-tempted to round on the man and shoot him. Maybe the approaching hostile would help her find safety? Maybe he had signed to the wrong mission? Should he really be trusting these people? But these thoughts were so absent minded that they only flitted around his self-conscious, his core personality features were patriotism and a cocky attitude, in that order.

(It should be noted here that even a creature newly formed of a demon and a human has very little control of their pheromones.)

Gently he unhooked her leg from the sash holding it up, before raising her up in his arms. He looked up to see the Sergeant watching him, unknown to Flag the Sergeant was worried, clearly whatever the target was had already managed to infect Flag.

There was a muted call from outside, “Sir, hostile approaching. We need to leave now.” 

So with the target secure in his arms - and wasn’t he surprised to discover how light she was, including the leg - he exited the room, bracketed by the other soldiers as they left the hospital and headed into the night.

...

Enchantress-June woke up in a van of some sorts surrounded by people they didn’t know. They opened their mouth to scream and instead yawned. Loudly.

Someone swore and a needle was in their neck before they could swear them out.

Unconsciousness greeted Enchantress-June once more.

…

Back at the hospital Bruce Wayne was quite aggravated to find that Doctor June Moone had either left or been taken from the hospital before he could get to her.

(Although his annoyance was nowhere near her head Doctor’s, who now had no payment for the woman he had been holding for the past four weeks.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to me! Yay! (I’m 19, finally!)  
> My mom got me about 20 DC comics including the full set for Harley Quinn & Power Girl, I swear I was this close to bursting into tears (of happiness).
> 
> Previously called: ‘When you break an Idol’  
> Now called: ‘A Broken Idol’
> 
> OHMYGOD six bookmarks, thank you so much!
> 
> Last Chap: 11/08/2015  
> Date Now: midnight on the 15/08/2015 and then like 3am on 16/08/2015


	7. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein they meet Waller and Waller begins her recruitment speech

The target had been airlifted out and was now at an undisclosed location. Amanda Waller breathed a sigh of relief as she re-watched the extraction footage. That was a close one. She didn’t know what Wayne was aiming for, but he had been sniffing around for metahumans with a ‘good’ disposition. Luckily he had been unable to poach their newest member, but this meant she would have to keep an eye out to ensure that the others on her ‘possible’ list were not grabbed before she could make the offer.

But apart from the almost-mishap Waller was pleased. They had a new metahuman, from Sergeant Kowalski’s reports Flag appears to be already influenced by the target, and she might be beginning to understand Bruce Wayne’s position in all this.

The interrogation would begin soon, and if the creature in Doctor June Moone didn’t cooperate … Well. Waller glanced down at the innocuous briefcase sitting on her desk. She had come prepared.

…

They were worried. June-Enchantress had woken up in what June’s memories recognized as some kind of interrogation room. No longer wearing the clothing the hospital had provided them, they now wore an off-gray tracksuit, and although it was nearly identical to the hospital garb (which had been an off-blue papery pants and t-shirt with the  hospital's insignia on the lapel) it unsettled them because it meant that they had been stripped down and changed by unknown persons while unconscious. The walls of the room were all giant mirrors, which they assumed were all one-way mirrors, which also allowed June-Enchantress to truly look at themself for the first time in weeks. In the hospital they had avoided mirrors, ignoring reflective surfaces, but now they really had a chance to look at themself. The most glaringly obvious thing about them was that they were female. This shouldn’t have been a shock, as both June Moone and the Enchantress had taken female form, but something about being so obviously female didn’t sit well with them. This thought of being ‘her’ itched against their brain, against their very sense of self, it made them want to rip away at the face they saw until those pretty eyes and lips were gone.

Breathing deeply June-Enchantress centered themself. Another hitched breath was drawn in. How were they supposed to deal with this? Once-June had always been female and had been proud of it, once-Enchantress had loved the female form - partly because it scared people more to have a being of incredible power in a young cute girl-child, and now June-Enchantress couldn’t stand the thought. June-Enchantress banished the thoughts from their mind, this wasn’t something to worry about now. Glancing again at the mirror June-Enchantress looked at themself, their hair was much shorter than it had ever been when they were June or Enchantress, perhaps one of the nurses cut it? And their eyes … well they actually looked pretty much identical to June Moone, in fact the only real change was the hair. Perhaps this was because the Enchantress had no real physical body? She was a demon who gained physical form in this realm by body-hopping from one human to the other. And it wasn’t like her demonic form could even be expressed on earth, from what June-Enchantress could remember the colour of once-Enchantress’s toenails weren’t even on this dimension’s colour spectrum.

(Delaying worry over one’s identity is never a good idea, but since when did magic users have good ideas? Once-Enchantress and her brother came to this dimension because they weren’t being given enough ‘respect’ in their home dimension, who actually thinks that it is better to leave behind your family and friends to go become a god is a good idea? Magic users, that’s who.)

The worry over what was going to happen to them encompassed them. Who had them? They remembered waking up briefly before arriving here, the people around them all wore some kind of camouflage gear, had they been taken by the government? And which government? They peripherally knew about the new organizations against metahumans (the protesters, the assault and attackers, and the occasional religious organizations who claimed they were demons brought down to start the apocalypse), but did they qualify as a metahuman? And if they did how did they - whoever this organization is - know?

June-Enchantress was left to stew over these thoughts for what felt like hours. And then the stillness was broken and the door opened.

The man that entered was of the dweeby-kind, with a receding hairline and cautious eyes covered by boring glasses. He was probably the kind of man once-June would have been friends with - or fought for a grant - and once-Enchantress would have sacrificed to show her love for her minions. Suffice to say he was not who they had been expecting to see.

They watched as he shuffled in, carrying a smart silver briefcase and sat opposite them, placing the briefcase on the table he began to fumble with the lock. They watched with interest as he mistyped the password and sweat began to gather on his upper lip. Finally he had the briefcase open, and spun it around to face them and …

 _There._ That was who they were expecting to see.

The woman on the screen of the tablet that was held in the briefcase was smartly dressed, with a very serious demeanor, behind her appeared to be some kind of control room, with a large set of screens and what once-Enchantress recognized as minions scurrying to-and-fro. She reeked malevolence and her stern expression looked like something that wouldn’t be out of place in a boardroom, or behind the Prime Minister.

And then she spoke, “My name is Amanda Waller, I run a secret division within the United States’ government” at least they now knew who took them, “which was created to combat and protect the United States against forced beyond our comprehension and control.” She paused, and looked at June, clearly expecting an answer.

“Good for you?” _Wow why did I say that._ The man who brought the briefcase in clearly thought the same as them if his eyebrows were a good indicator.

Amanda Waller’s lip curled in what was obviously not good humor, “Yes, it is very good for us. But not for you. On the thirteenth of July at thirteen hundred hours you stumbled back into the base camp which you had left five days ago. You had a broken leg and were covered with blood and bruises and you were then summarily airlifted out of there to the nearest hospital.” Here she paused and flashed a remote at the camera recording her and a new window opened on the tabled showing them a slideshow of once-June’s clothes and equipment, “Your base-mates assumed you had run out of supplies and become lost in the jungle, however your possessions tell a very different story.” The bloody tshirt, the ripped pants, once-June’s camera (and they winced at the thought of the footage there), and … was that once-Enchantress’s binding garment (once-June’s thoughts reflected on the inaccuracy of that, ancient cultures had nothing like the bikinis of today).

The images disappeared to be replaced by a blurry, muted video of the tomb, “So, we researched further, and opened up your camera,” they watched as once-June was confronted by once-Enchantress. Once the clip had ended Amanda Waller’s face took over the screen, “I am going to state this plainly, we know you are not the twenty-three year old Doctor June Moone. We found your tomb and your heart. You will tell us who you are and what your allegiances are.”

Heart?

They found the Enchantress’ heart?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long chapter!!!
> 
> And the cliffhanger
> 
> HOLYCRAP 11 Bookmarks! Thanks to everyone who has confidence in my little love-project!
> 
> Last Chap: 3am 16/08/2015  
> This chap: like lunch time 16/08/2015


	8. Cutting to the Heart of the Issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally!

Amanda Waller watched as the being wearing June Moone breathed out at her revelation. Below the camera’s angle she had a small knife held over the organ, just in case she - or the agents around her - had a chance of being put in the line of fire. 

“The heart?” The being’s voice was almost flat, but Waller picked up a small ounce of emotion, was that dread?

She spoke confidently, giving no sign that she had it’s life in her hands, “Yes, your heart.”

“Not my heart. Hers.” This correction appeared to come unbidden from the creature’s mouth, making Waller still ever so slightly. Could June Moone still be alive?

“Whose?”

…

Enchantress-June did not know what to do. Was the heart still theirs? But surely it wasn’t … Their hands were still handcuffed to the table but they still reached up as if to feel for their heart. Had it been taken from them? Was it now held by the vulture-eyed Waller? They no longer had the magic the witch-god used, so what were they supposed to do?

Heart-in-throat they answered the question by rote. “It belonged to the Enchantress.”

“And who is the Enchantress?” Shadows crossed over the flinty expression on her face. For a moment they could see her, her soul, her very core being. Amanda Waller was someone once-Enchantress would have killed upon sight, and once-June would have run from. Amanda Waller was someone who could bring down empires at the touch of a button, but she was also someone who felt it was her job to protect her country. She had seen war and death, and she had caused both on numerous occasions. But Enchantress-June, who was neither human or god … they knew that they could trust her. 

It was this flash of unfounded trust that allowed them to speak, “She was a witch-god, to be forever entombed in the cave you took her heart from.”

“Are you not her?”

“I suppose I was, but not anymore.”

...

The creature on the screen that dominated Waller’s view - although it was not the only screen of importance, while gaining a powerful metahuman had been her goal from the first time she saw Superman in action she still had other situations of importance to monitor - was not what she had expected. Of course one of her researchers had hypothesized that what climbed out of the cave was neither the creature entombed or the young archaeologist, but that had been one hypothesis in a long list of options, and was quite close to the bottom. Already out of the corner of her eye she could see a researcher bring up a document to be projected next to the creature and printed for the briefing packet.

This could mean that her leverage was no longer leverage. Shit. 

“Can you explain that any further than a cryptic statement?”

It laughed. “Yeah, I guess, sorry, this has all been pretty wild for me,” ‘yeah’, ‘wild’? Clearly it had gained some knowledge of current language … would this help or hinder? It cleared it’s throat, “From what I understand the Enchantress was cursed so that if she ever took an unwilling host she would suffer, unluckily for June Moone she was that unwilling host.”

“And?”

“And they both died, creating me in the process. A new entity, a new being, with the memories of a god and a human, and the powers of them both as well.” It paused and then laughed, “Wow that sounds so dramatic. Once-June would never have done that before.” It rolled it’s head back, no longer looking at the camera and sighed, “But then again once-Enchantress wouldn’t have ever though a human as a superior to her.”

Waller felt a brief flash of pride - and possessiveness, although she would never admit that to anyone - at that admission.

“So, then, where do your allegiances lie?”

“With myself, I guess. Once-June’s stepmother? I don’t think once-Enchantress’s family would ever accept me like this. They’d probably kill me on sight.” Behind Waller a researcher was already frantically going through the information found at the cave, trying to find evidence on the  _ the Enchantress’s family _ . That would be a topic Waller would re-visit at a less contentious time.

“In that case I have a proposition for you.”   
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12 bookmarks!  
> 3 commentors!  
> more than 500 hits!  
> whahhhhhhhaaaaaat?????  
> Thank you so much for all the support!!!
> 
> Last Chap: 16/08/2015  
> Date Now: Still 16/08/2015
> 
> I added a new summary, so I figured why not post another chapter (it’s early so what?) (BUT DON'T WORRY, I'll still post another chapter tomorrow)
> 
> Previous summary:  
> In one world Doctor June Moone was compelled by an ancient evil called the Enchantress into breaking open the idol that held her spirit. And in another world? Well, that is the story.
> 
> New Summary:  
> It is commonly understood that the multiverse exists ... millions of possible earths all diverging from singular points of change. In one world Doctor June Moone was compelled by an ancient evil called the Enchantress to break open the idol that held her spirit. When June Moone climbed back out of the Enchantress's tomb she brought the once witch-god out with her.
> 
> And in another world?  In a different world the thing that climbed out of tomb was neither June Moone nor the Enchantress. The ramifications of this change are far reaching and endless.
> 
> … Thoughts?


	9. The Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A devil? Check. A Demon-Witch? Check. A Pseudo-Faustian Contract? Check.

Oh? A proposition?

“We will ensure that you are not hunted for your metahuman abilities.” Hunted? Surely the world wasn’t becoming that dangerous for metahumans yet. “We will provide lodging and funds at our discretion, in exchange you will help us on top priority missions.”

“You do realize I’m not an American citizen, right?” They were not going to mention the lack of control of magic. The idea of admitting vulnerability to a secret government organization screamed of danger and stupidity. But maybe they could figure something out.

“This isn’t about being American. It’s about protecting the world from danger.”

“So like a superhero?”

…

“In a way.” The creature was clearly thinking this through.

“I want a contract. Assurance that you won’t start illegal experiments on me at the drop of a hat. And freedom to move around, I don’t want to be stuck in a room like this one for the rest of my life.”

“Done.” This was too easy. Much too easy, normal people would have fought at the thought of being controlled. Something was wrong, and Waller would figure it out.

Experimentally Waller _pressed the knife into the heart_ , on screen there was no reaction from the creature. Shit.

...

“Not done yet.” They breathed out, completely unaware of what Waller had just done, “I want access to the internet and the ability to contact people from outside the facility. And I want the contract to be unbreakable,” this was the true worry, would Waller fall for it? “Through magical ways, not legal ones.”

Waller’s eyes hardened, and her expression became darker, “You will explain the process of the contract to me.”

There was no such thing as magical contracts. Not unless Waller sold her soul to them. Scrabbling through once-June’s memories inspiration struck, “It’s a blood contract, both participants contribute their blood to be used as ink, which the contract is then written it. This binds the participants blood to the letters of the contract.” Please don’t recognize a fictional book series. Please don’t recognize it.

“And what happens if the contract is broken by either party?” She was falling for it. Hopefully.

They paused, keeping their face blank as they thought … “Blood-sickness until the contract is restored.” That should be something that they could do … right? Once-enchantress often coloured her host’s blood to be something more eerie when performing rituals. It should be easy to do that to Waller even at a low level of power. Maybe. (Even with their modern morals Enchantress-June knew they would have to go hunting soon. Animal experimentation was better than human experimentation. And squirrels and rats would be very easy to find.)

“And how permanent is it?” 

They couldn’t make it too long … but it had to be a believable length, “Depends on the length recorded in the contract. Often they are written for half-decades, to be renewed when the participants choose.” 

“Fine. I will draft a contract and have it sent to you. Until then you will be staying in the facility you are currently in.” Waller paused, “For the safety of your current roommates you will have an escort at all times.”

“Okay.”

Waller nodded, and the door to their left opened, showing a soldier. “That is Major Rick Flag, he will be your guard until the contract is signed. You will be under constant supervision, and any attempt of defying my orders, hell if you even attempt to go to the bathroom without his - and therefore my - knowledge any possible contract will be a moot point. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Waller smirked, “Good. I will re-contact you within the next two weeks.” She leaned down, clearly about to dismiss them when a thought occured.

“Wait!”

“Yes?” There was a clear frown on her face but she needed to ensure she said this or else she would forget.

“You are going to have to be present at the signing of the finalized contract. I need assurance that it is your blood.”

Amanda Waller scowled, but nodded, the screen went blank.

It worked. Wow.

(What once-Enchantress, once-June did not know, was that if she had believed in it as Waller believed in it, the contract would have worked. Even magic users do not fully understand the logic of magic.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe that I’ve already reached upwards of 15,000 words in my drafts document? cuh-rae-Z!
> 
> Last Chap: 16/08/2015  
> Date Now: still 16/08/2015
> 
> I have been getting soooo much support (THANK YOU!!!)
> 
> *shrugs*  
> All I can promise you is that the word count will go up!  
> (*in a side-alley whisper* but if I get some more support from you guys I will release chapters off-schedule)
> 
> Also! Speaking of schedule, this easy-peasy thingy going on is going to slow down because (sadly) I have a life, which includes university! So enjoy it while it lasts! Because soon I’m gonna have to post once a week rather than once (or twice) a day!


	10. Meeting Major Rick Flag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes two to Tango (and Waller needs both partners invested in the overall dance)

So now June-Enchantress was in a secret American facility filled with soldiers and would be there until the devil in the woodwork popped out and made them sign a faustian contract. At the same time they would have to play it cool so said devil did not realize that they were tricking them into signing a deal.

Awesome.

So very, very awesome. Every flicker out of the corner of their eye appeared to be mad scientists who were coming with hacksaws and medical equipment to start dissecting them. They were terrified. They had no way of protecting themself, the magics that they used in the hospital wouldn’t work here, and any experimentation to try and get back to a decent level of self defense would either result in bodily harm or Amanda Waller finding out that June-Enchantress doesn’t have any magical powers to speak of.

Currently. They could feel the innate magic in the air and the power running in their blood. If they hadn’t then the teleportation incident wouldn’t have happened. They just couldn’t access it, nor use it properly without some trial and error experimentation. And probably some research.

There was very little they could do. Once-Enchantress would often meditate so that she could control her magics, but that was not working out for June-Enchantress. Right now they were supposed to be meditating, but it seemed like every stray thought became a full blown essay of worries and problems. Once-June’s human brain had been fully developed by the time they came into existence, and the kind of training they should of had in meditation was never there. Hell, once-June had never even considered using meditation, let alone experimented in it and practiced the use of it from a young age. If she had then June-Enchantress would be in a much more favourable position ...

Opening their eyes June-Enchantress sighed and contemplated getting off the terribly uncomfortable bed, with the broken leg they were in an even more unfavourable position - it’s not like they could run anywhere. And the damn crutches … they hadn’t been allowed to keep the ones from the hospital - they hadn’t even been brought with them when the team had spirited June-Enchantress out of there in the middle of the night - and the ones provided to them now by the base were uncomfortable. No, uncomfortable didn’t cover it … they were painful, like they actually hurt their armpits and wrists when they had to use them. Forget the magic! First order of business was that the crutches had to go. 

Picking the crutches up from the ground June-Enchantress heaved themselves up. A shift in their vision showed the soldier, Major Rick Flag as he had introduced himself, getting up as well, at least he was kinda cute. He didn’t physically look like someone once-Enchantress would have gone for, but once-June had had a few flings in her time, and he definetly fit in her categories for male partners. Apart from the soldier bit. Once-June was someone who didn’t particularly care for the military, she  _ was _ raised for some of her childhood by two lesbian mothers from the 1970s.

But June-Enchantress was not focusing on once-June’s choice in men, no, they were most attracted to the vibes (aura? Astral presence? There wasn’t a word in the English language to describe the extra senses many demons including the once-Enchantress and now June-Enchantress had, let alone the word for  _ what _ they were sensing) they were receiving from him. While he looked like the typical soldier in this base, he didn’t feel like them. Underneath a layer of anxiety and worry - and wasn’t it interesting that these feelings were directed at them - was a deep calm, which pervaded all the way to his core personality, which was filled with a warm sense of loyalty. It was emotionally nice to be in his presence. His aura licked against their’s not even shying away like other people’s auras did at the twin semblance (because it would take many years before once-June and once-Enchantress truly became a singular entity). The colours were also very pleasant to look at, indescribably in the human language but overlapping together into a pleasing mix of warm light. 

They noticed as their own ‘vibes’ brushed right back at his. And wasn’t that interesting? No humans thus far had been potential mates for once-Enchantress, the only beings she copulated with were of the demon variety.

They paused. 

Shit, did they have a crush?

…

Flag stood as she did, wary of what the target’s intentions were. He grew even more wary as she stopped to stare at the air around him. It seemed that often the target would stop and stare off into the distance, her briefing packet noted that the time of these intervals was decreasing since they first began, he knew that they were normal for her. But … but there was something distinctly not human about the way she paused, if he didn’t look very closely he would think that she wasn’t even breathing. All that moved were her eyes. 

“Do you wanna go get some food with me?” The question startled him, she  _ had _ been staring at him for a little over three minutes, and then she drew out of the trance as if she hadn’t ever stopped.

When he didn’t respond she continued.

“Dweebie said there was a canteen on base?” She phrased it like a question … it was weird how she was inviting him to eat with her, he knew that she knew that he had been assigned to watch her during the day shifts. But there was also something familiar about her lack of conduct … it was very civilian. An attitude he was not used to. Waller had told him to make her feel welcome without revealing anything about the base or military, if he couldn’t talk about his work then she must have meant to talk about his life? (Honestly Flag was just grasping for a reason to speak to June, she really was his type.)

“Sure.”

She smiled, and it was like seeing the sun after an endless winter, “Cool.”

“Wait, who’s ‘dweebie’?” 

And so as they walked to the canteen they talked. Turns out if you don’t give her a name she’ll give you a bad (and silly) nickname. Maybe he should tell Agent Matthews - who was higher than him in the base’s hierarchy as the chief representative of Amanda Waller. But, then again, as such a senior representative (and Matthews had made sure to press that into Flag’s ‘dumb soldier skull’) he really shouldn’t worry him about such insipid (another word used by Matthews in the briefing) concerns.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crutches are so hard to include when ur character is constantly thinking!!!
> 
> Last chap: 16/08/2015  
> Date Now: *blows streamers* no longer 16/08/2015 … it’s *drum roll pls* 17/08/2015!!!
> 
> I really didn’t know how to explain that (date change) in the chapter, Waller ordered rick and others not to let june-enchantress out of their sight so they just ate lunch and dinner from yesterday in the room, slept, had breakfast in the room, and then someone came in when they were taking the tray away to tell them they could go to the canteen for lunch. Like … I could havve added the scene but I wanted to start with June-enchantress’s emotions, ya know?


	11. 36 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick Flag Fucks Up

In the base’s canteen Rick Flag watched with amusement and fascinated horror as June Moone finished her third helping of the ‘surprise meatloaf’. He watched as she grasped her glass of water, all her movements - especially now that she was in the open and not crammed in that box they called a room - were eerily smooth. She made no spare movements like most people did, her hands moved with the knife and fork in the most economical movements, taking the quickest route to pick up her glass. Flag had never before noticed people’s extra movements, but she made no move to bump her fork against the plate, or move to a slightly less fixed course when shovelling her second helping of salad into her mouth. 

It almost felt like he was watching some exquisite ballerina move across a tightrope.

“So …?”

Blinking he re-orientated himself so that he was no longer staring at her fine-boned hands, “What?”

“I said, can I go get another helping?”

For one brief moment he marvelled where this fine boned woman was putting all of it. The he nodded and stood with her, and walked slightly behind her as she seemed to float over to the serving stations. Maybe the extra food allowed her to have more control over her movements? Glancing to the side he saw the canteen’s security cameras trained on her frame. At least he knew the researchers were getting this, he really didn’t know how to report her eating habits, he imagined for a second going up to Waller,  _ yes ma’am I noticed that June becomes more graceful the more she eats. _ Yes, because  _ that _ would go well.

Glancing at the appreciative expression of the cooks he chuckled to himself (quietly, in his head), at least someone was appreciating their hard work. After June had gathered her fourth -  **_fourth_ ** \- helping - with Flag holding the tray out for her to scoop food onto -, they moved to the coffee machine (and with some humor Flag noted that these movements had become routine). Flag had eaten with her for the first helping, but all the subsequent helpings had just turned into coffee refills for him. Tray in hand Flag escorted June back to ‘their’ table.

Her first bite was much more languid than she had taken before, was she finally becoming full? Absently he wondered how she had survived at the hospital they had extracted her from, there had been some kind of quota system for food there, had she been starving herself? (With that idea in mind most of the annoyance from watching her eat had dispersed.)

“So how old are you?” 

It was the first time she had spoken. “...”

Doe eyes glanced up at him, “I’m sorry was that ... too direct?”

“No, it’s fine,” he just hadn’t heard her speak since her first bite, “I’m 36.” 

“Huh.” The sound she made was surprised. Rick wasn’t a vain man, he knows that every year he lived was etched into his skin, whether through wrinkles, scars or bruises. For a moment he wished that he was younger, he knew that Doctor June Moone was only twenty-three years old, he was practically ancient in comparison to her, she was a bright young doctor - who was outrageously intelligent, getting into Cambridge at sixteen and already holding a doctorate at twenty-three (a flash of white hot rage swept over him, he was just a dumb soldier, never went to university, dedicated his life to service of the United States government).

“What?”

“No, I just,” her delicate little throat moved as she swallowed her mouthful, “As of today I’m 36 days old.”

He choked on his coffee, “Wait, what?” 

This time she really looked up at him, “Sorry, were you not told?”

“No … your briefing packet says your age is twenty-three,” And there, right as he said that her expression visibly shuttered, warmth leached out of her eyes, “and the spirit’s age is somewhere around six thousand. What do you mean days old?”

…

Of course. Of course.

Their cute stalker didn’t realize. Neither did it appear that the other members of this base or Amanda Waller realized. Of course they wouldn’t. When they looked at them they saw a human Doctor possessed by an ancient witch. No matter their pronouncements otherwise. Of course outsiders wouldn’t understand.

It shouldn’t of hurt as much as it did. It really shouldn’t. They had known him for such a small amount of time and yet his admission stung like he’d slapped them in the face with it. 

They smiled, and even without looking they could feel their astral presence pulling away from his. “It means nothing.” And then before he could speak - and his slight flinch was telling enough, he  _ had _ noticed that they were being insincere -, “I’m going to get fifths, okay?”

…

From behind the camera Amanda Waller sighed, of course Mr. Red, White and Blue would mess up. She was going to have to expand the creature’s briefing packet to ensure he understood exactly what it was. She needed them attached, and she could see that the attachment on the creature’s end was becoming frayed due to Flag’s inability.

(She didn’t even realize until later that this was the beginning of her new career of matchmaker between those two idiots.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> Prev Chappie: 17/08/2015
> 
> Now: Still 17/08/2015


	12. Starting at the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally get the contract!

Upon returning to their room after the canteen incident Enchantress-June found a final copy of the contract they were to sign with Waller laying on their rickety bed … all 167 pages of it, not including the title and the three pages dedicated to the table of contents (yes, they flipped to the end and checked the page count, probably out of some morbid curiosity). When they had lied about a dangerous blood contract they had expected something a bit more scroll like and about five paragraphs long, not double the length of once-June’s undergraduate dissertation and about the same length as her research notebook preceding her Doctorate. And after a quick flick-through they were displeased to discover that the font was **half** that of her research notebook.

Glancing at the corner of the room where their nightguard sat (and wasn’t that another blow to have Flag leave them _early_ after a bullshit excuse) they cleared their throat.

A mini-heart attack followed when the night guard’s hand immediately twitched toward the gun strapped to her leg, followed by a gruff, “What?”

“Would it be possible to get a highlighter?”

“Why?” It was very disconcerting to hear someone sound so suspicious about such a mundane action. They really hadn’t been confronted with much open hostility - except for Waller, but they had a feeling that Waller was always like that - since their existence began (and they were definitely going to have to find a better word to describe it than that).

(There really is no way to explain the feeling of someone else judging you for who you are, without even know _who_ you are. June Moone, being a middle-class white female was a relatively privileged girl growing up. While she had dealt with the hatred of homophobes at a young age - due to her mother’s second relationship - she had left the situation at such a young age that it never really affected her the way it would have affected someone who lived with lesbian mothers their entire life. The Enchantress had been feared by people, but that number was equal to the number of people who had loved and worshipped her - often the lines between love and fear overlapped - but those feelings were only ever created and promoted by her actions.

The new being currently referring to themself as June-Enchantress or Enchantress-June had these memories, but had never experienced what it was like to be judged by someone with prejudice against them. A prejudice against them for being themselves. When you encounter someone who is prejudiced against you because of things you cannot control a stir of emotions occurs, some parts being fear, some anger, but also a large amount of loathing towards yourself and your identity. It was not June-Enchantress’s fault that they were the way they were, and yet some part of them was telling themself that, and that if they could just be someone else they wouldn’t have to worry about the danger they were in.

Of all the new experiences June-Enchantress would face this was the one they wished they could skip over.)

Milliseconds wrought with tension passed, “So I can go through the contract?” Their voice very nearly squeaked and they could feel their heartbeat increasing ever so slightly to echo the emotions they were feeling.

(From behind the glass window the researchers tasked with monitoring the creature's base behavior - so they could later detect when it was lying or any abnormalities in it’s actions - noted down the increased heartbeat and other signs of distress in their target - including an interesting release in pheromones which they later learnt triggered the human’s brain predator-prey system to mark the pheromone holder as being neither.)

The guard stared at them for a minute, and in that minute June-Enchantress wondered if this was going to be one of those stories about how a human whose relatives were victims of a ‘bad’ metahuman’s rampage killed an innocent metahuman - before disappearing on her archeological mission once-June had heard a number of cases like this, where people were even considering whether human on metahuman crime should be considered a hate crime, once-June hadn’t cared much about the metahuman’s predicaments but now … now June-Enchantress was feeling some sympathy for the low level metahumans of the world. (They also quietly tucked away the disturbed and content feelings at being thought of as a not-human, their issues with identity would wait until they were _sure_ that they would not end up on some mad scientist’s dissection table.

But then the guard sighed and stood (and all the researchers watching the target noted it’s flinch at the movement) and knocked on the door. Not a second later the door opened and someone passed the highlighter through, which the guard then passed to June-Enchantress.

“Thank you.”

The guard grunted, before moving back to sit down, leaving June to start going through the contract.

_The participants in the contract will agree to mutual lack of antagonism and harm if both participants adhere to the terms of the condition in sub-section b of article 15 …_

Oh boy … this was going to take a while. Might be a good idea to change into their new ‘pajamas’ (because honestly there was very little difference from their regular tracksuit) first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want me to include Waller’s convo with Flag? I felt that the chap was getting too long as is, if I included it I’d have to split it (again) …
> 
> Longest chapter so far (was at 4 pages), had to chop it in two ...  
> I swear though these chapters keep getting longer and longer … I’m really worried that the longer they get the less mistakes I’ll pick up (the shorter the chapter the easier it is to edit, I’m really bad at concentrating on editing) … just comment if you see an issue PLEASE
> 
> I’ve started a draft for a little fic. Please tell me if I should post it now or later …  
> So, premise: Due to a boyfriend’s drug habits Zoe’s (Deadshot’s daughter) mom gets arrested. 3 years in the slammer, minimum. And because she doesn’t have any relatives left Zoe goes to Gotham City’s Orphanage. Guess which mad clown couple is looking for their own slice of normal?  
> (Zoe kidnapped by Joker and Harley. Sort of fluffy while also being VERY dark. Stockholm Syndrome. Inspired by our house is on fire but we like it that way by Logorrhea)  
> If I get enough support I’ll post the first chapter!  
> (I’m also gonna aim for over 1,500 words for every chap, soooooo #motivation)
> 
> Prev Chap: 14/08/2015  
> Now: midnight 14/08/2015 to like 3am 15/08/2015


	13. Research, Remorse, Revision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waller --> Research  
> Flag --> Remorse  
> Enchantress-June --> Revision

After reaming Flag out (“We brought you in to help foster trust in the target!”) and giving him a newly revised docket on the target (“If I get another whiff of that kind of behaviour again I am pulling you from this mission, we cannot allow the relationship we’ve built up to be broken by some dumbass Major’s poorly chosen words”) to be studied and memorized before the two’s next encounter, Waller moved on to speak with the head researcher on their new understanding of the creature’s abilities.

Or, as it turned out, to be reminded of the dead-end her research department was at.

“-cient scripture indicates some control over the elements as well as the general allusion to the unquantifiable energy that is consistently referred to as power of the moon, but which we’ve translated to ma-” Waller had brought this man in because of his history in studying ancient latin cultures and their use of rituals, but so far her investment had proved to be unreliable at best, and completely unneeded at worst, “-gician is often translated to warrior of the moon in sanskrit dialogues, but here the warriors of the moon appear as those which the being known as the queen of the moon, who your target refers to as the Enchantr-” It was probably her fault for hiring someone whose passion was agent magical societies (no matter what Doctor Samson Cheong said Waller knew how to make fable sound like logic). “- then, there is also the subject often referred to the king of the sun, who seems to -”

And this was where she cut him off with a simple gesture, he quickly fell silent, “So, what you’re telling me is that you _still_ have no idea what this contract is?”

“Well,” A single look quelled further babble, “In a way … yes.”

Turning away from him she looked out through the glass of her office to the hive that was the rest of her department, Waller needed to find out what the truth was about this contract - and fast - but it looks like she wouldn’t be getting any answers from him, turning back to him she nodded, “Continue to go through the recordings of the tomb.”

He nodded but didn’t move.

This was the main reason she preferred to not work with civilians, “You are dismissed professor.”

The knowledge of the benefit her country would gain from having a metahuman with the powers listed in the records within the tomb, helped stop her from just threatening the creature until it worked with her.

Then she strode out of her office, immediately all eyes were on her, the only ones not watching her being those she had given indefinite assignments to - monitoring the situation in North Korea, the wire-taps in several government officials’ (who were both political enemies and friends, it never hurt to be too careful) phones and, of course, the researchers monitoring their newest metahuman. _These_ were the kind of people she worked well with, “I need everyone to begin proposing worst-case-scenarios of this supposed contract, you will have the time between now and tomorrow at 2pm to draft these scenarios into a list from most to least likely, each with an accompanying threat level towards the United States, and then towards the person signing the contract.” Even though it was midnight no-one protested, there was no such thing as regular office hours for the security level that all of the people in this room held. She would know, her own security level was so high that she had once considered leaving a note to herself as a reminder (this thought had been immediately banished at the thought of what that information would mean in the wrong hands, but it had been there for a moment or two).

After Waller’s announcement she left the room, the people in her team were all specially handpicked. They were the best of the best _before_ she had chosen them, and now they were even better. She trusted them to take such a simple assignment and completely excel at it.

On her laptop the slight figure of the creature sat, going through the proposed contract. Waller had ensured that the first draft would have several large errors in them, a way to measure the severity at which the creature held the contract, as well as the creature’s reaction to possible deception. From it’s watcher’s reports it had found most of the major issues they had placed (including a little bit about binding the creature’s soul to her service) and nearly all of the spelling errors.

But not all of them. Several times things that her behavior analysts said would have angered the figure depicted in the thing’s resting place - little notes about the hierarchy during missions, or the creature’s use of it’s powers on base - weren’t even noticed by the target, the largest reaction to these was a little note added about allowance to regularly practice the use of its powers in a location chosen by the discretion of the facility.

Was this the real thing?

It felt too good to be true.

…

Closing the new dossier. Flag paused in his near-frantic study (and while the pace was mostly to do with June’s expression a large part was also because Waller was a scary bitch).

He had never met anyone quite like June before … even if the woman he met wasn’t exactly June.

There was something about her that drew him to her more than any other person he had known, and even more than a lot (all) of the people of the people he had been with … romantically. It, whatever it was, wasn’t a trait he could pin down and say ‘this is why I’m attracted to June Moone, also known as the Enchantress’, maybe if it was this would be easier for him. Whatever the trait was … it was never something he had felt in another person before.

(What Rick Flag was mistaking for a trait he was attracted to was his astral projection’s reaction against June-Enchantress’ projection.)

Although, Rick reflected, it did make sense that he had never felt that way about another person before, after all he had _never_ met a person who had been born from the deaths of two other people.

(Far away Batman shivered and then glanced around to make sure no one was watching him.)

…

In their room June-Enchantress circled another issue in the contract and hoped for some hint that they’d be getting out of this alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there’s the second half of my four-page extravaganza!!! (also I’ve reached thirty whole pages of writing)
> 
> Prev Chap: early early morn 15/08/2015  
> Date Now: like 6pm 15/08/2015 onward
> 
> I figure JE would have taken a llooooooong time to go thru the contract and the researchers would also have taken a looooooooong time going thru the files on the place sooooo ….
> 
> YOOOOO!  
> Votes on who you want in this universe’s task force X will begin … NOW! Just drop me a line saying who it is and I will add it to my large mind map of possible members! (Just a warning: no one is guaranteed, not even Ricky!)


	14. Blood Contract

For the past five hours Enchantress-June and the video of Amanda Waller (and how on earth did that woman know so much about the damn contract?) brought in by Dweebie, had spoken about the terms and agreements of their contract.

Fake.

Their fake contract.

Which the U.S. government’s scariest member believed was real.

Shit. What had they gotten into?

(Later the new being, and Amanda Waller as their main custodian, would learn that this three years was the period in time their personality first developed. After the knowledge was imparted Waller would lock herself in her office with her inauguration scotch and fantasize of how she would have trained her metahuman so very very differently if she had this knowledge from the start. If only she had known … if she had known she never, _never_ , **_never_ ** would have placed the being on Task Force X (which had happened within the first year of gaining her greatest asset, and then continued to happen, frequently). And she certainly would never have put Anita in the same room, hell, in the same building, in the same five square _miles_ as Harley Quinn, let alone the same team.

Rick Flag would have a minor crisis over whether Anita loved him or had been trained to love him. This would be solved through some epic drinking with Needham and Lincoln the night after, who were now used to his dilemmas.)

“And what does ‘ _the participants will negotiate how the past individual, known as ‘the Enchantress’,’s belongings are retained and protected_ ’ refer to?”

After many such questions about their amendments Enchantress-June was able to answer quite succinctly, “Several of the items within the Enchantress’s tomb hold a significant danger to wielders if they are used incorrectly. I want to be able to ensure that all such items are properly stored and protected.” Okay so more like answer moderately succinctly. But this was one of the major worries, the Enchantress’s memories from just before she took June showed that her brother’s idol had also been held in the tomb. While he actually required the Enchantress’s magic to release him, they still worried. Not only would he be a significant danger to earth but also a danger to Enchantress-June themself. He would not take kindly to a half-demon in the place of his once beloved sibling.

“And you didn’t think of mentioning this before?” They didn’t think of that.

“Uhhh … no, not really?”

Waller sighed, which seemed like something she was wont to do, from their experience of the last five hours, “Next time you know of something that could endanger people under my command, warn me. Immediately.” Shaking her head she continued, “Will you need assurance of the items before the signing of the contract or after?”

“After is fine.”

“Good. Moving on to your next amendment.”

…

After what felt like hours Waller and the creature had finished.

“And this is your final amendment to the contract?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, on to more ... _pressing_ matters,” the flash of surprise on the creature’s face showed Waller that she had the upper hand, “you have not fooled me.”

The near-petrified expression on the creature’s face after hours of exhaustive discussions was quite pleasing. A glance at a screen to the left of it’s face showed an increase in heart-rate. Good.

“My researchers combed the historical records Doctor June Moone found, they have gone through every square inch of the temple where the witch’s grave was, including the grave itself. There is not one mention of any kind of blood contract, the only contract ever mentioned is a vessel contract between lower demons and humans,” and then she smiled - the now thundering heart rate beating rapidly next to the creature’s palid face, “And never is ‘ _the Enchantress’_ ” and here she stressed the word, because she still believed that whatever was in the doctor was not this fabled witch-god, “referred to as anything but a higher demon.”

It opened it’s mouth, and then obediently shut it when Waller raised her hand.

“This could mean one of three things. The first being that you are lying.” No reaction on any of the monitors, “the second being that you are a lesser demon, attempting to trick _me_ with a fake contract,” and here, again no obvious reaction.

(The only reason this situation did not end with a bullet in their skull was because at the moment of truth they had furled their aura around them like a cloak, therefore masking any obvious bodily reactions.)

“The final reason being that this isn’t a contract any higher demon would dare make with a human,” and here, here was the reaction, an increase in heartbeat - distantly Waller noted that if it’s heart beat any faster she would have to get it’s guard to sedate it.

(Waller would never know that the reason there had been a reaction there was because the idea of a demon being scared of making a contract with a human was so laughable … if the situation had been any less tense they would have laughed … uproariously.)

“Bingo.” She murmured and watched the full-body shiver go over the creature.

It tried to speak, “I -”

“Be SILENT!” The full-body flinch it gave spurred Waller on. She would do the talking, as long as she made her point of being the strongest and most knowledgeable in the room she would hold the upper-hand in future confrontations. And then, in the future, she would have the next Superman at her side.

“A contract such as that would mean that you are desperate.” Her tone changed, a predatory smirk alighting her features, “We have noticed in our tracking of you and your actions that not _once_ have you attempted to use any of your powers, not even when you were taken into our … care.” She let the moment hang, staring into the camera which projected her image across states to where the creature was, “This is because you can’t use them.”

It’s sharp inhale in the resounding quiet of her final statement was louder than a scream.

The small noise had clearly been fuelled by the same emotions of a scream, giving Waller undue pleasure in her cunning.

“You hoped to gain some kind of protection so that when you revealed that you were of _no use_ ,” small emphasis on smaller words had loud impacts, “to us we wouldn’t kill you.”

And there she stopped, waiting for the creature’s next move, she watched as it’s eyes darted to where it’s guard must have been, before looking to the door. Not once did it raise it’s hands, not once did it murmur an incantation. The creature very clearly was thinking of normal ways to get out of the room, human ways. Good.

Waller had taken a gamble, choosing what the researcher’s had listed as one of the most unlikely scenarios, and she had been right. There _was_ a reason she was in charge.

(Throughout Waller’s speech she had been holding her hands tightly behind her back, nails digging into the flesh of her palm. One of the researchers watched morbidly as she relaxed her hands and blood dripped to the floor.)

Another breathe and then, “You may speak.”

It was like she had opened a floodgate, “You-you’re right, I …” it was breathing shakily, tears streaming down it’s face, “when I woke up I couldn’t … I-I tried to transport myself back to the base camp, to transport myself anywhere, and I just … I _couldn’t._ I have **all** these memories of using these powers, of lighting and fire and growth and death and healing, but as soon as I try to conjure flame or open a portal. Hell! To create a _light_. It doesn’t work. I - ”

She held up her hand. It stopped talking. In a voice as hard as nails she spoke, “Tell me about the contract.” It was not a question, but an order.

“It’s - it’s - it’s similar to a marriage,” and at the glance of her face it hastily backtracked, “with no marriage, it’s more like, a contract between equals. When both dem- people in-in the agreement sign there are both, um, equally responsible to hold up the end of their bargain.” Waller raised her hand and it obediently stopped.

“This is not typically used with humans?”

“N-no.”

Waller spoke quickly to cut off it’s stuttering, “Why?”

“To demons humans are like uhh, animals, you don’t make contracts with animals.” Similar to what she had expected.

“What were your intentions?”

“I don’t want to die.” The words were nearly whispered.

“Did you withhold anything else?” She stopped it from immediately speaking, “If you lie to me again I will not be so lenient.”

Here it paused, opened it’s mouth, closed it and then opened it again, “The severity of the, of the blood curse can be ... _changed_ depending on how much blood is given. A-and the contract grows stronger as, um, time goes ...”

She had not expected this, “Elaborate.”

...

By now Enchantress-June was flying by the seat of their pants. They knew it would be fishy to after being caught lying not have any other lies.

“The more blood you put in the further in your blood the curse infects.” At Waller’s unimpressed eyebrow they elaborated further, “The more blood you donate to the writing of the contract the further in your family is harmed by the blood curse.” They had thought of this because the thought of rewriting all 152 pages in their own blood would mean a long hospital stay.

“How do we limit it?”

“Smaller ink to blood ratio.”

“And the other part?”

“If the contract is made for a decade, maybe in the first year the participants can mess up and almost-break some of the agreements without harm, but as the years go on the stricter control the blood curse has on their actions.” They winced internally, practically squishing their aura to their skin, Waller would never believe this. This was all such bullshit. They were going to die.

“So an action in the first year which the blood-curse doesn’t react to will trigger it by the tenth year?”

“Yes.” They wanted to say ‘sure, why not’ but they would at least attempt to keep the game up until Waller revealed that she had all the cards.

“Is this affected by the ratio of blood to ink?”

“No.” They were actually going to die. They didn’t even get a chance to have a funeral for June and Enchantress.

“How much blood would need to be added to affect parents?”

“About … 100 milliliters.” And another thing that was pulled out of their ass. Maybe a funeral would still count for them it if was their’s? Would it be possible to request for three headstones? And that scared them … would their death be marked as someone else, or just as June or Enchantress?

There was a pause with Waller looking away from Enchantress-June to something at the side. They could feel the sweat gathering at their armpits, probably staining the tracksuit but not giving a damn. Any second now Waller would cut the call and they would get a bullet to the brain, if they were lucky, if not … it would probably be worse.

Because of these dark thoughts Enchantress-June nearly missed Waller’s response.

“Fine.”

“What?” Did they hear her wrong?

“I’ll sign the contract with you.”

…

Did Waller just agree?

Rick, who had been sitting at the edge of his seat in anticipation throughout the call - which he had been allowed to view by one of the tech-support monitoring the monitors in June’s interrogation room (Waller had actually ordered the tech-support to ensure that he was present, she needed him to see she had the death-switch to his - future - sweetheart).

…

Across the bulletproof glass Enchantress-June’s head was ringing as if several concussive blasts had just gone off in both their ears.

Unknowingly they repeated the same thought that Rick had.

…

Far away Waller finished up the call to the terrified, currently powerless (but soon to be powerful if the additions to the contract of training rooms and research allowance was anything to go by) creature.

“And one more thing.”

It nodded, clearly ready to agree to anything.

“Never lie to me again.” And then Waller ended the call, it’s stricken expression frozen on her screen.

She had agreed. It was for the good of the nation.

And, if this backfired, she would be the only one to pay the price. Moving away from the control panel to her office Waller thought wistfully of the beautiful scotch she had been given many years ago (she privately decided that this minor crisis wasn’t worth break the seal over). Closing the door behind her she began typing up the report, explaining the contract she had with the creature along with the previous additions of it’s history, benefits and uses.

One last fleeting thought greeted her before she could push the matter from her mind _I wouldn’t have it any other way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID I JUST TELL YOU THEIR NAME  
> AND WHO IS ON THE TEAM  
> WHATTTTTTT
> 
>  
> 
> line was originally you cant bullshit a bullshit artist instead of ‘you havent fooled me’ #themoreyouknow
> 
>  
> 
> HOLYCARP another long chap.
> 
> I really can’t edit this one the same way I did chaps 12 and 13, so now you get 6 whole pages of PURE AWESOMENESS!!!
> 
>  
> 
> enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Prev Chap: 14/08/2015
> 
> Date now: 16/08/2015


	15. Signing

With bated breath they watched as the medic extracted Waller’s blood into a syringe, she then took it from the medic and and calmly emptied it into the pot holding the ink and June-Enchantress’s own blood. The colour was still black, which probably should have been expected with such a large amount of ink and a small amount of blood … If they had Enchantress’s powers they would have coloured the ink-blood red or purple or something just to create a cool visual effect.

(If Waller could sense astral presences she would see that June-Enchantress’s was tucked around their form tighter than a drag-queen’s penis. She would also feel pride at being able to inspire that kind of fear in a supernatural creature.)

The movement of the calligrapher startled them out of their thoughts as she picked up her fountain pen and began to copy the 150+ pages of edited document word-for-word. After the first page June-Enchantress wanted to yell screw it and explain the entire ruse … well, almost. But watching someone calmly copy a document while making sure that she made no mistakes was  _ so  _ boring.

Then Waller shifted in place and instantly June-Enchantress’s senses revved up a gear. They hadn’t realized it was possible for someone to be even more scary than tablet-Waller was, so clearly it made sense that real Waller induced heart attacks with a breath thrown your way.

And so they waited and watched as the writer dipped the pen into the ink to refill it before starting on the new page.

…

Finally the contract had been fully written out - with no spelling errors - and the blood dried. The only thing left were the two little spaces at the back of the contract where Amanda Waller and June-Enchantress would sign on the dotted line.

June-Enchantress went first, carefully writing out in the old language their new magical fingerprint - and wasn’t that a complete bother to find out.

They then gave the pen back to the calligrapher who not-so-subtly cleaned it before re-dipping it into the blood ink, before raising it to Waller like an offering.

This was it. This was where they would be discovered, where they would be carted off to some lab and then dissected …

She signed.

Well … that was anti-climatic.

…

Waller had left the room as if the hounds of hell were on her heels, one of her assistants assured June-Enchantress that Waller would contact them within the week, but because of her schedule couldn’t speak right away.

So June was left to fester for a week, not really able to speak to anyone, with not very many good books, and not very much to do.

…

“The contract will be stored in a safe place.”

Once again Amanda Waller was speaking to the creature over one of the securest line accessible to her division. A weight had both been lifted and added to her shoulders. They had guaranteed the support and power of a creature who may have been able to rival Superman, but at what cost?

“Where?”

“In a place that only I know of.”

It’s lips pursed, but this was  _ not _ a topic Waller would be lenient on. This would be one of the few secrets she would ever keep from the rest of the United State’s government  _ and _ her division. This was something that only she would know, even if she had to create a new contract with this creature to ensure it.

But the creature let go faster than she had expected, “Fine.”

“Good,” a severe grin caught over her face making the creature’s heart rate escalate, again, “Now, we will go over the other artifacts found in the cavern.”

…

June-Enchantress had been surprisingly honest (especially considering their current agreement keeping them from being killed was a complete and utter lie) about the artifacts in the tomb. The ceremonial pieces would be kept at a lower level of security than the others, and the magic-related objects would be released to them as rewards for good behaviour, which is more than they had expected. The decorative pieces, at June-Enchantress’s request, would be donated to the Aztec section at the Metropolitan Museum of Art under June Moone’s name, however only after literally months of screening by Waller’s team.

They only lied about a few things, well one thing, with a few others as fakes to ensure that it didn’t seem like the thing they were actually hiding was special.

“So these are similar to power boosters?” The tone of voice was so … scheming (they couldn’t think of any better word for it) that June-Enchantress pulled their aura around them tightly.

“Yes, they enhance the user’s power levels.”

“At the cost of human life?”

“All the humans within approximately three hundred metre radius will be affected. I can’t say how it would affect them, as Enchantress only ever used it once,” which was technically true, “and I didn’t see what had happened to the humans around me” also true since there hadn’t been any humans around them  _ to _ see.

“Fine. They will have one of the highest levels of security.” Waller paused then, “I am curious though?”

“Yes?”

“Why do you care for human life?"

“Well I once was human, so I don’t want to kill anybody,” at the raised eyebrow they elaborated, “I’ve met people here that I wouldn’t want to die.”

…

Waller didn’t actually care what the creature did. She  _ did _ care for confirmation that Major Rick Flag still held some fond emotions in the creature.

And she had it.

…

Watching the doors slam shut one after another sparked a small pang of longing for the chest piece before the final door was shut and all sight of the comfiest garment they could think of was gone.

Behind all five secuirty doors.

At least Waller was terrifying  _ and  _ thorough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY CHAPTERS ARE GETTING SO LONG!!!
> 
> WHYYYYYYY
> 
> (also as I am writing this I have 5 + pages of notes to get through to create my next ten chapters, and I can confirm that Task Force X will be happening … within the next CENTURY, MWAHAHAHA
> 
>  
> 
> Last Chapter: 16/08/2015  
> Signing the documents: 19/08/2015  
> Checking up on security/end of the chap: 29/08/2015
> 
> Update -17/08/2016 -:   
> I've lost a lot of the control I had over the writing, and since I'm packing for uni and everything my personal life has become very hectic. I'm gonna move to the once-a-week posting now, just to create some structure (I have 4.5 chapters to write to make up for the one's I've posted - which isn't something I can make up in a day or two) in my schedule. I will post chapter sixteen on the 22nd (next Monday). All subsequent updates will be on Mondays, schedule-pending.


	16. The Asset's Handler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops looks like I broke my own promise to myself and posted not one, not two but THREE ongoing stories at once. (although one is a drabble series so might it's more like 2.5, BUT STILL!!! WHY WRITER'S BUG WHY???

Sitting in the chair across from Amanda Waller was Senior Agent and behavioural analyst Christina López. Agent López knew why she was here, she had been the one to predict the ‘correct’ scenario on the being inhabiting June Moone’s supposed contract. She had theorized that the being was trying to protect itself _because_ it had no powers - not as a means to another end, as the other analysts thought - and was desperate to find a way to protect itself, so desperate it would choose to make a contract unheard of within it’s six thousand years of existence. It had been a theory that her fellow analysts had received with raised eyebrows and chuckles, but one that Waller had looked at and then raised the threat and likelihood level, herself. That had reduced the chuckles.

And then the being had confirmed her theory.

Well. They had stopped laughing after that.

She knew the reason why she was here, but not what she would be asked for. So she waited calmly as Waller worked on her computer. One of the technology experts had said that there was a direct video feed from where the being was to Waller’s computer. She didn’t know if it was true, it certainly sounded plausible (Of course the rumormonger was customarily reported for spreading word about Waller’s computer, and she hadn’t hear of him again).

Agent López reflected that others’ in her position - a person who had not been specially chosen by Waller to join her division - would have been nervous, perhaps even fidgeting. But then again, she thought wryly, if they were worried about meeting their boss, than maybe they were there for a bad reason. Either way she waited, the epitome of calm, for her boss to finish her work.

…

Calmly finishing her report on the situation in Bolivia Waller sent it off to the relevant people, before turning to the woman sat calmly in front of her.

Christina López came from a respectable family, both her parents were police, as well as her older sister. She had been the first to choose a ‘higher education’ within their family and had instead worked to be accepted into the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s academy and worked her way up until she was one of their best graduates, to date. From there she had advanced her way up the ranks, only stopping to gain a degree in behavioural analytics, until her file had landed in a pile meant for Waller’s division. Typically they didn’t last long. What Waller did, what her division did, was not something for the lighthearted, or for people with fragile constitutions. They did what no one else did, what no one else could do. For the good of the country.

The woman sitting before her had outlasted all the other homegrown FBI agents in her batch, and now with her quick mind and ideas she had saved Waller from making what could have been a big mistake.

(Somewhere, deep at the bottom of Waller’s iron plated heart, twinged at the thought of what would happen to a dead woman’s family, if she had made the mistake. Parents, spouse, child. Her mistakes could have affected all of them).

“I am assigning you to the creature, I need someone to become an expert in it’s actions and behaviours.” She passed the finished dossier over to the agent, “This is the final file on it, there are no other copies.” Waller caught López’s eye, “That file may never leave my office, Agent, you will memorize it here, all additions and notes will be added here. No physical records will be made anywhere else. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She hummed pleased, “I am a busy woman, Agent López, and because of that I will not always notice if I do not have our _most_ valuable asset’s,” here she paused, at the Agent’s slight movement of surprise, “This creature _is_ the United State’s current most valuable asset. It has the possibility of becoming the next Superman.” The agent nodded. “I will not always think of the asset first, that will be your job. You will constantly be thinking of it’s mental and physical health, even if that is before my own.” Another movement of surprise, it was well known that apart from in the Oval Office Waller was _always_ the most valuable person in the room. “Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” Moving her eyes towards the one way windows, Waller assessed the multiple situations shown of the many video screens in the main headquarters of the division, when she saw that all was well or being dealt with she continued, “I want it to remain as undamaged as possible. You will accompany me to every brief and hear every one of my ideas on the control of the creature,” her severe gaze cut into López, “I cannot promise that I will agree with you, but you **must** tell me when you feel that I am endangering the target, understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“However, you will never be allowed to contact the target,” she tapped the file, “From what we understand so far it uses some kind of proximity control to make those near it care or feel emotions for it. Already it’s night guard has been showing altered base-personality test results. We need you to remain impartial.”

“Understood ma’am.”

Waller raised an eyebrow, “You have a question?”

“Yes.” Waller was pleased to see that she didn’t immediately ask it.

“Ask me.”

“Is this why you have spent the least possible amount of time with her?”

Waller nodded, “Before our first meeting I took several baseline personality tests … and after it, the same tests showed some ... major changes in different areas.”

“And you have since returned to normal?”

“After certain measures put in place were carried out … yes.”

“May I ask what the measures were?”

Waller regards her cooly, “You may not.”

(Waller had taken the necessary steps to remove all outside stimulus. This involved a long chemical bath and a twelve hour stay in an isolation cell.)

López nodded, unsurprised.

Waller moved back to her work, leaving López to go through the creature’s file.

…

She already had an issue, or, rather, a question about the being. Waller had stated that López’s opinion on the being’s mental state would be respected and heard.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes, agent?”

“Is it wise to keep Major Rick Flag near the asset?” He was likely already being affected by the being’s powers, and if he was to work closely with Waller, it might not be the safest idea.

Waller nodded at López, something like approval in her eyes, “Know that while I have chosen Flag to help lead military forced under the control of my division, he is not part of it. I have placed him with the creature _to_ form emotional attachments. I want the two of them to hook up, _hell,_ fall in love.”

“Which will result in both of them having a connection to you.”

“Yes.”

“There is undue risk there, ma’am.”

Waller nodded, “We will have to deal with those risks as they come.”

“Understood."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prev Chap: 29/08/2015  
> Date Now: 1/09/2015
> 
> Next Chapter:  August 29th
> 
>  
> 
> I’m just gonna say, right now, that the relationship between June-Enchantress and Rick Flag is MAJORLY FUCKED UP. He was mind controlled into loving them by both Waller and their phermones, and they were mind controlled into loving him thru Waller and the fact that they are like a year old and their personality is coming to be based around him.
> 
> LIKE THEY ARE EPIC LEVELS OF FUCKED UP
> 
> The relationship is in no way healthy, and because of this they are going to break up, get back together, try to kill each other, and fall in love.
> 
> THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE AN IDEAL RELATIONSHIP!!!!!
> 
> This is why I’ve tagged; non-consensual relationships, unhealthy relationships, not romance goals; because they ARE NOT HEALTHY, in the real world this shit would need years of therapy, but bc this is humorous I am only going to include that peripherally.
> 
> Okay?  
> Okay.


	17. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA the Beginning of the June-Enchantress Gender Identity Arc

“Wait! June!”

As soon as Enchantress-June had seen Rick Flag waiting at the table they shared, they had turned around and walked right back out of the canteen. Sadly he easily caught up, it is near-impossible to run in crutches.

“June, please, just let me talk to you.” His voice and aura both conveyed their distress, the aura reaching out to Enchantress-June’s before they batted it away. The way it slunk back, as if it had been hurt did _not_ make their heart reach out in sympathy. Nope. Definitely not.

“Then talk.”

He seemed to crumple in on himself.

…

Being away from June was like losing a limb. At first Rick had been surrounded by his own guilt at hurting her feelings, but afterwards … being away from June but still being able to see her. It was torture. He had never cared for someone so much before, and he only truly realized the extent of his feelings when he was far away from her.

And now here she was, right in front of him, one eyebrow arched imperiously, and all previously concocted speeches disappeared to be replaced by two words, “I’m sorry.”

Her response reached him distantly, as if shouted across an empty space, “Who told you to say that?”

“Waller,” she sighed and tried to move around him, even he knew that was the wrong answer, “No, I meant, uh, wait,” she stopped and their eyes locked together, “Waller did speak to me, but it was to tell me that what I had said was wrong”, distantly he remembered her cold, hard, voice over the tablet (“You will **not** jeopardize my relationship with the target”), “and I just came to say sorry because I realized what an ass I had been (“And you will not mention the confrontation again, Major.”).” Well screw Waller’s warning, he knew that he had hurt June, and he was going to make amends. No matter what it took.

(Little did Flag know that this was _exactly_ what Waller wanted. Far away Agent López watched the confrontation - mentally - noting down the physical gestures and words used between the two. Already she could see that the being was using some kind of sensor to test hostility from others - as evident by the recorded reactions to the nightguard-, and clearly it could also sense non-hostile emotions as well.)

“So you were an ass, huh?” The small smile on her lips lit up her entire face.

“Yes, definitely. A complete ass.”

For a moment her eyes flew to the air above his head, “Are you genuinely sorry?”

“I know you won’t believe me, but I promi-”

And then she smiled at him, it was like seeing the sun for the first time, “I believe you.” And her smile quirked slightly, “ _And_ I forgive you, my situation is very different.”

…

López’s latest report resulted only in a small approving nod from Waller.

“I need you to start researching possible physical therapists and psychiatrists for the creature. You may physically record this.”

“Yes ma’am.” López pulled out a notepad.

“I need a psychiatrist who has experience working with personality and dissociative disorders, as well as working with people who have military experience. I want therapists who have worked with both civilians and soldiers with post-traumatic stress disorder.” Here she steepled her fingers and looked back at her computer, “Please ensure that all options have some link to the military, police or one of the agencies.”

“May I recommend something?”

Waller motioned her to go on.

“Perhaps include psychiatrists who have worked with people who have issues with their social identity or have knowledge of that branch of psychology.”

“Why would you suggest this?”

“Ma’am, the asset claims to have been born a little over fifty days ago, it neither refers to itself as being the Enchantress or June Moone, if we bring in a psychiatrist and help them to establish themself as a member of society it will help with her ties to the division.”

Waller nodded and almost-smiled, “Good thinking. Include that requirement in all psychiatrists.”

Without saying anything Agent López knew she was dismissed. She nodded and left the office to begin her search.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prev Chap: 1/09/2015  
> Date Now: 4/09/2015
> 
> WOOOOW I am so sorry I posted late  
> My security expired (yesterday) so I couldn't use my computer!!! As soon as I updated it I opened ao3 and posted this!  
> MANY APOLOGIES OMG
> 
> Next chap: Monday, Sept 5th


	18. Accomodations

Apprehension held it’s place in Enchantress-June’s heart. They had been summoned to ‘the room’, as in the interrogation room, what had happened? _Had_ something happened? Or were they just going to dispose of them. They had been escorted there by a frowning Rick, well, Rick frowned a lot, but this frown was more of a _what the fuck_ frown than a _I’m a soldier_ frown.

After twenty minutes of waiting - or maybe two minutes, time was still a bit of an issue for them ... every moment seemed to stretch for eternity in the early days, now that feeling was still there, although it took more time before that anxious feeling passed (this feeling was caused because, like with children, every day was another of existence, something that they were not used to, for a one year old another year is _their entire life_ , while a year for a thirty year old is 1/30th of their existence. June had  the strange joy of being an adult experiencing what babies and young children do, and this experience was something **_utterly_ ** new to them, as neither once-June nor once-Enchantress remembered their childhoods) - Dweebie entered the room, carrying his briefcase with him.

So … they were meeting with Waller.

Great?

Anticipation filled their movements as the call connected.

…

The call ‘connected’ (Waller used a call-in system to let those she commanded from the luxury of her division sweat with tension, she had been observing the creature since it was told by Flag to come to it’s interrogation room.) and the creature’s badly-hidden worried expression filled her screen before it quickly cleared.

“You need therapy.”

…

Blunt and to the point …

“Thanks.” Their dry remark slid out of their throat before they could even think to stop it.

An arched eyebrow quelled them as they swore themselves out. Their aura fuzzed in and out, both coating their skin (the part of them that was once-June hiding themselves from the bigger predator that was Amanda Waller) and spreading into as much space as possible (the part of them that was once-Enchantress trying to intimidate what it perceived as a either a larger or competing demon). Neither shape helped their situation much, but it did provide comfort.

…

To Amanda Waller it appeared that the creature’s mask slipped at her actions.

It was almost pleasant to be obviously feared - she had made sure her division kept their own reactions in check - except for the fact that what feared her may have stolen her life or soul …

“In exchange for willing participation in both physical and mental therapy you will be given a larger room. Any bad behaviour will lead to you losing those privileges.” Her eyes drilled holes into the camera, “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You will be provided with research materials. Good behaviour will be rewarded with new books and eventually you may request thing from the Enchantress’s tomb. Understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

…

Their new room was more than just a cell with a public toilet across the hole.

Much More.

For one, it was three rooms. A bedroom behind a door which, they were told, could not and would not be locked. Ever. A bathroom. And what could be considered some kind of combination between a living room and an office, which also served as the antechamber to the bedroom and bathroom. The bed could comfortably fit two people, and a quick bounce showed that it was **comfortable** , unlike the cell bed, a peak in the bedroom’s closet revealed more tracksuits and some new boots. The idea of breaking in _another_ pair of uncomfortable leather boots stayed their hand, perfectly fine with using the pair (well, the single boot they used, as their other foot was in a cast) they had been given at their entrance to the base. Then, once finding out that the bathroom had an _actual bath_ quickly decided what they were going to do before dinner.

(And they also learnt that it was near impossible to have a bath with a cast, and had to wait in near embarrassment as Rick duct taped a garbage bag around their cast and leg. Because of course they would have to take their pants off. Of course.)

…

After the bath they came out to discover the desk in their new living room had five huge tombs on it. They promised themself to start on it as soon as they were dressed. A quick flick through showed that some of those books even looked moderately reliable … although none were bound with any kind of skin, which might mean they were not genuine.

And then they glanced up and saw Flag was there.

The towel felt uncomfortably short as they fled back into their room.

Dressing proved to be much easier, now that they had some privacy, as they were pulling the sleeping pants on their brain began to become slightly more fuzzy with tiredness.

Maybe a small nap would do … Leaning back into the blankets they were asleep before they had a chance to turn out the lights.

(Which Rick did turn off when he snuck into the room to make sure they were okay.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> WOOOOOW I’ve reached 60 Pages and 18 chapters.
> 
> Prev Chap: 4/09/2015  
> Date Now: Night on 8/09/2015
> 
> OMG I just got a Harley Quinn's Jacket!!!! My dad came with me to move in and we saw a halloween store and I spent like most of my pocket money or merch.


	19. Strageties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... university is a lot harder than I thought ...  
> SORRY FOR POSTING THIS LATE PLEASE DONT THROW A ROTTEN TOMATO AT ME!!!

In the top corner of Amanda Waller’s personal screen showed a miniature woman, diligently working as she read through a tomb larger than her head and copied down various bits of information. Of course, woman was an inaccurate word in Waller’s point of view. She still had no confirmation that the creature held a gender, although now with the blood contract Waller could no longer say that she was sceptical of the creature’s origin. It _was_ a blend between the Enchantress and Doctor June Moone.

(She had finally reached this conclusion after severe deliberation of the words of the contract, the creature’s actions and interactions with Major Rick Flag and it’s writing style, which, after analysis appeared to be an amalgamation of June Moone’s hectic notes and the runic symbols within the Enchantress’s tomb. It was probably the last piece of evidence which most persuaded her, as grande lies to people have always been easy to her, however the smaller parts - such as handwriting and note taking skills - are things retained and hard to get rid of after years of use.)

And now? It had been a week. At first Waller had provided the creature with three texts, two of which were meant to be phoneys. _Magick Moste Evile_ (something made by a particularly enthusiastic writer, for an insignificant sum) was easily discarded, however the unnamed diary of an unnamed French ‘wizard’ in the 1930s during the Great Depression was poured over - even though the entire thing was in Latin - and many notes were taken (Waller had very quickly rounded on the analyst who suggested it, as she had clearly made a mistake when choosing fake works. The woman had, without prompting, went back over _all_ the other books she had categorized searching for errors, while also continuing to monitor the situation in Canada). The final book, simply called _Earth_ in ancient gaelic, which Waller had thought was the _only real one_ had a few notes taken from it, but several times the creature had chuckled at some entries (although she did note the pages where it had skipped very quickly over, and was quite interested to see that it had avoided the sections on animal and human sacrifice. Moral codes were always issues to deal with.).

She had realized very quickly that the rewards system she had been hoping to initialize would not work out or at the very least not work out with her current system. So she had adjusted.

At any one time the creature could only have three texts in it’s room, no matter their size, language or length. To get a new one it had to switch one of it’s current texts with the new one, all notes were to be kept in the provided journals.

By now there were five separate journals, and it had read twenty one separate books. It had minimal sleep, and only ate when Flag brought it to the canteen, and even then it had begun to not go to the canteen at all, and instead get Flag to allow it to stay in it’s new cell and research.

At first the argument had been “My leg has been hurting more, can you just bring me something?”, and then “I don’t feel comfortable in the canteen, can we just have lunch here, together?” and finally being completely truthful “the more books I finish the closer I get to regaining my powers, if I regain my powers I can fill out my terms of the contract, if I don’t the contract will _affect_ me.” Waller saw Flag visibly crumple at that and knew that her latest bitch boy had officially fallen into the creature’s trap. But it was the truth, when the creature woke from it’s sparse nights it often held a darker tinge to it’s veins.

(June-Enchantress had found a simple colour changing charm that they remembered from once-Enchantress’s childhood - demonlinghood? - and had practiced using it by artificially changing strands of their hair to be slightly darker or lighter when they bathed. They had remembered how low intensity and low powered the spell was, and had thus used it when the steam from their slightly-too-hot baths was in the air. They weren’t sure if Waller’s secret government agency could detect magic, but they also knew they were on a limited time frame and needed to ‘prove’ the contract _quickly_ . They could constantly feel the tension in every room and their own paranoia made each soldier they crossed a vessel of once-Enchantress’s brother or - gods help them - _father_ come back to kill them for their slight of **_existing_ **.

And also have a way to threaten Waller if she stepped over the contract’s bounds.

So they had begun changing their hair, and then, when that was successful changing their skin when it was lobster read under a mountain of soap bubbles to become pale again. Finally it created a fake bruise across it’s forearm from ‘bumping’ into the door, and had been holding it for six hours before allowing it to fade - in the bath, again - and then creating a real bruise in it’s place.

And now they had progressed to lightly tinting their veins around their neck a slightly darker colour, which with the added colour of the blood, made it appear as if they had dark red veins when they woke.

A complicated process, but altogether worthwhile, as it gave them an added feeling of security while in the military base. It also allowed them to stretch their mind and accept magic as _real_ as well as _useable_ in a human body and ever so slightly stir the magic in their blood into moving less sluggishly.)

Which reassured Waller - although not fully, assumptions lead to premature deaths - that both she and the creature would be affected. It was interesting that the contract did not consider Waller’s constant maintenance as a negative thing, perhaps it was because she had been monitoring it long before the contract began? Did that mean it would be affected if she stopped monitoring it?

Her computer beeped showing her that someone was approaching at a trajectory that suggested they would be coming to her office - such a handy device, although many times she turned it off just so she could continue to use her own skills. Waller didn’t bother glancing up, simply pressing the door to unlock her office, the camera on her computer showed that it was Agent López waiting outside.

“I believe it would be wise to set the asset a bed time.” López commented upon entry.

(After the first several “Good morning ma’am”, “Good afternoon ma’am”, and “Good evening ma’am”s she had trained her agents to not beat around the bush when presenting information to her.)

“And why would you propose that?”

López had gotten used to Waller’s quickfire questions over everyone of her decisions (in return she had thousands of questions over Waller’s own actions, but she restrained herself and only asked the ones in relation to the asset), which made her an even more valuable Agent, many did not stand the test of time against the force of nature that was Amanda Waller.“The asset is currently not working at an optimal level, I find it unwise to allow it to continue as any notes made in the haze of exhaustion may lead to damages of itself or our base.”

“And how would you deal with the effects of the contract?”

Waller didn’t even have to point it out - as she would have to for other analysts (then again they weren’t here, López was, and even if the division ‘knew’ who would be promoted Amanda Waller actually knew) -, and López had an answer prepared, “We ask the asset if  your personal reassurance that sleep is needed would stop the contract from feeling a breach is made.”

Steepling her fingers Waller eyed the Agent still standing in front of her desk, “And wouldn’t it be a tactical error to reveal we aren’t the powerful ones in this situation?”

“With all due respect ma’am the asset already knows we hold all the power.  A simple question will not defund weeks of intimidation tactics and strategy.” The answer was not as prepared as the other, although it did have a practiced air to. Waller always did prepare conversations where both sides already had the script.

“Good answer.” It threw López off for a moment, allowing Waller to continue, “But I need to know it’s breaking point. With it’s current injuries we cannot test stamina or speed but ...” and here she trailed off, leaving ‘we can test endurance’ to hang in the air between them. Neither voiced the words in a trailed off whisper as many less intelligent analysts would have, instead they were acknowledged by both parties before being quickly dismissed.

“Then in that case Ma’am I would highly recommend enforcing it afterwards. To keep the asset at an optimal level.”

Waller nods, but says nothing, moving back to the report on the situation in Canada, dismissing López, who left the office quickly afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so im gonna let you in on my writing process  
> I make a small paragraph, for this chapter it was;
> 
> …  
> Waller watches her research  
> We might need to enforce a bed time  
> No. i need to know her weaknesses/breaking point  
> After you find it you should consider enforcing it. To keep her at an optimal level.  
> Waller nods but says nothing, moving on to a report that lopez does not have clearence for  
> ...
> 
> Not too hard, right?  
> WRONG  
> IT TOOK ME TWO WHOLE PAGES TO FINISH ONE DAMN LINE  
> 1,076 WORDS  
> WHAT  
> WAT  
> THIS IS WHY THEY ARE GETTING LONGER, ISNT IT???
> 
> Prev Chap: 8/09/2015  
> Date Now: 15/09/2015


	20. Performance

After nearly two weeks with minimal sleep (and then a week with enforced bed times) June-Enchantress was ready to ‘fulfill’ the contract and stop with these near-sleepless nights (although those were more for their benefit than Waller’s, the more they studied directly related to the strength of their magic, and that led to an increased ability to defend themselves against mad American scientists).

...

Four days ago they had passed out with exhaustion on their desk, and woke to all their books gone. Before they could demand answers Dweebie had come in with his damn computer and June-Enchantress had had to speak to Amanda Waller in (what used to be) the safety of their home.

“You damaged yourself, which is unacceptable, you will now have a enforced bedtime. Will the contract see this as you breaking it’s ruling?”

“Not if I have your permission.” Complete lie.

“You have it.”

“My resources?”

“You will be allowed no more resources until you have had your first doctor’s appointment.” Damn it, there had been an interesting fire spell that they hadn’t had time to copy down. But it’s not like they would complain or - they shuddered at the thought of what Waller could do - disagree, “Afterwards any breaking of curfew will result in the books being taken away. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” There was a pause, and then they asked the question that had been dragging at them, “Will I be allowed to practice?” At the raised eyebrow they elaborated, “I have some exercises and simple spells in my journals, I would like to practice them.”

Waller nodded, eyes turning away, “We have a practice room set aside for you. Any and all practice must be during the day, and you must inform your guards of what you are doing, what the results look like and how long it will take. Understood?"

“Yes. And if I’m wrong about the time or forget to add something?”

“You will be sedated for the remainder of the day. As insurance.”

“Punishment.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Yes, it can be considered punishment.”

“And will I be able to ask for resources for my practice?”

“On good behaviour, yes.”

“Am I currently on good behaviour?”

“Not with these questions. After your appointment report what you need to Agent Mathews, Major Flag or Lieutenant Mara. They will report to me and I will assess whether you have earnt them or not.”

...

And now, they were going to leave their room and finally practice _visibly_.

What they had chosen was a simple light spell, (which wasn’t actually that simple, and looked for more impressive than the words ‘simple light spell’ suggested. Typically spells did not just have one function - and spell is also a very bad word for the magic the former Witch God used, spell suggests something that was taught in a classroom by a half-goblin, but spell really was the best word that was not from the demon-tongue and did not accidentally summon once-Enchantress’s father to gaze down upon them - they were centered around a certain ‘genre’ of magic, but if someone were to graph the different results of one spell the graph would be 4 dimensional, suffice to say the magic is affected primarily by five factors; strength, knowledge, intention, emotion and the magic-user’s power), which they would take through the paces, transforming it to show their versatility in the battlefield.

(And wasn’t that interesting? It was to be expected that once-Enchantress would have a need to spill blood and that once-June would be against it, but the pent-up desire to _fight_ , to grapple with an opponent and to be victorious - and not end in death - surprised them. The Enchantress had been physically vicious, tearing hearts from heathens and followers alike, but June? June had not been physically vicious - although she had faced several university grant-related battles and come out victorious - she had not done physical activity apart from being on the track team in High School … over 6 years ago. 

But it was very clear to June-Enchantress that they hungered for a good fight. Was this an indication of their personality and preferences being formed? Would one of their traits be that they enjoyed combat?

Never - well maybe once or twice, but not often - before has a person been aware during their personality’s growth, for that does happen in childhood, and now June-Enchantress was experiencing this new thing that neither once-June or once-Enchantress got to experience.

It made them happy, they were separating themselves from their old identity and starting anew.)

Calmly (well not calmly, they were near frantic with worry and the growing energy that now drove through their veins seemed to cause their heart to beat twice as fast whenever _anything_ happened - this including when they and Rick had talks during dinner) June-Enchantress waited in their training room, behind a now illuminated (and wow wasn’t that creepy? They hadn’t even known there was a two-way mirror there) two-way mirror a half dozen people - all of whom June-Enchantress did not know - stood, some holding clipboards, waiting for the same signal they were waiting for.

The green-light at the far end of the room glowed and June-Enchantress knew they were being recorded … now it was time to show Waller and her minions exactly what they had spent the last three weeks practicing (although they had no doubts that Waller hadn’t been closely monitoring them, but this was the final performance, not the rehearsal).

Gathering breath June-Enchantress gathered their magic and pushed.

Small green lights grew from the tips of their fingers and bobbed through the air, slowly drifting till they lightly circled them. Reaching for their power June-Enchantress opened a drip, allowing ever-so small amounts to enter each orb, and then they pushed. Instantly the lights became near blinding, creating the same effect of a flash grenade, they held that for several seconds before reaching wither their intention and snatching the glowing light, carefully molding and solidifying it into a shield, then they allowed the extra to dissipate, so that they audience could see the shield.

It wasn’t exactly a riot shield, more like June-Enchantress had created a bubble that gave them a good ten feet in every direction and was stronger than reinforced steel.

Using their knowledge June-Enchantress moved onto the next step, changing the energy into foot soldiers, so that now they were surrounded by fifteen or so bodies, all with weapons once-Enchantress remembered wielding and all a much darker green - nearly black - than they had started.

June-Enchantress glanced at the crowd who were furiously writing down and talking among themselves. Then they moved onto the next exercise.

Combat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOWWWWW  
> I was not expecting that!!! #cliffhanger
> 
> Previous Chapter: 15/09/2015  
> This chapter: (three weeks after): 7/10/2015


	21. And the CONFLICT BEGINS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG GUYS  
> I just couldn’t  
> Just  
> Cant  
> I had planned several more chapters of character building but omg  
> I am so done, have had writer’s block and so i did what any other writer would do  
> TIME SKIP  
> …

 Doctor Samson Cheong held a Doctorate in Archeology, Bachelor in Classics, and a PhD in Medieval and Ancient cultures. He was a highly distinguished gentleman, with the research papers to go with it, universities across  the world were clamouring to host him either as a professor (ha! They wish) or as a guest lecturer. His discoveries were reported alongside global news. He had chosen to accept the United States government’s offer for him to look at some ancient artifacts, hoping to add this discovery and another notch in his proverbial belt. Doctor Cheong had entered this position expecting the usual … fawning women, baffled archeologists who gained that light of _understanding_ when he told them what the artifacts were actually for. He was expecting for any paperwork to be brushed aside (as it had when he helped excavate the tombs for in the catacombs of Paris) and for him to publish his findings so his fans could observe his brilliance!

But was that what happened?

No. Instead, before he was even given the _briefing packet_ , he signed more than eight forms, and after gaining access to the relics he signed **another twenty** . When he stopped to breathe he realized that he had been _swaddled_ in Non-Disclosure Agreements and thinly worded forms which essentially told him that if _any_ of his newly acquired knowledge were to be leaked to his fans, let alone the public, he (a fifth generation American citizen, which is better than some people - and republican presidential hopefuls - can say) he would be tried with **_treason_ ** and fined a sum total of thirteen million dollars!

So now he sat _in. A. Cubicle!_ Surrounded by other worker bees with no way of sharing _his_ discovery with the world and no way to get out of this project without being fined! (Form twenty-one which stated that if he left the project early he would be fined the sum it would take to find a replacement - _as if they could ever find a replacement for him!_ ) And he would continue to sit in this **damn cubicle** for the next two years. TWO YEARS! He had gotten through the first ten months of work because of the fascinating implications, and now? Now he was barely held together at the seams, he needed to get back to his work on those Egyptian traps, or hold a lecture at Harvard, or write a peer-reviewed article, not **continue** to go over the same _damn things_.

He was furious.

And over the time he had been _locked up_ his anger proved … righteous.

Those buffoons in charge did not _listen_ when he talked, they did not read his carefully scripted reports and they did not understand that he needed OUT.

But of course, being the genius he was, Samson had already figured a way out.

In his _forced_ study there had been a focus on the broken idol, which was strange as there had been over twenty-five different idols, as well as various skeletons in their native dress and jewelry, and an abundance of scripture on both the walls and animal skins. And, _of course_ , these worker bees that surrounded him did not gossip. At all! So he had no idea what the importance of this particular figurine was (apart from the obvious cultural implications and context).

But then a breakthrough occurred, on his fourth ( **Fourth!** ) month ( **MONTH!** ) and he had deciphered the scripture on the thrones. And suddenly _he_ was enlightened.

They were gods.

Of the twenty-five idols eight were special as they depicted gods, the other seventeen showed priestesses and favoured servants. From what he understood those eight stood for this culture's Pantheon, with three of them depicting the leaders of the pantheon - two men and a woman -, two depicting creature-like figures, one resembling a Boar and the other resembling a Rabbit, and the last three depicting lower-cast gods, likely children of the leaders or demi-gods.

What was important was the three demigods. One of them was the broken idol, the second was made of solid ivory - very much unlike the other two -, but the last one? It held nearly the exact physical qualities as the broken idol, it was made of similar material, was carved in a similar style and held a similar size. Except it was not broken.

And in the scriptures …

The scriptures revealed to Samson _exactly why_ he was there.

The American government had managed to unleash a **_god_ ** , likely the same power as Superman, with five times the kill count. From what he understood the god’s needed willing possession to move into the human realm, and then their power’s were their vessel’s powers, just as their appearance was their vessel’s appearance.

(Please note that this is where Samson fucked up. There was no mention of the human retaining any mental facilities.)

And so, like any other supervillain, Samson began to plot revenge.

…

Hermione Mara’s (the nightguard, yes she hasn’t been switched out, due to June-Enchantress’s pheromones Mara has been chemically forced to like them, but don’t worry Mara knew this when she was being hired, this is a entire character arc which I have skipped, I might make a separate fic from Mara’s POV as she is slowly stockholm syndrome-d into like June-Enchantress later, but not now) hair is in a towel as she reads the latest Warrior Angel comic, calmly sitting outside the room as Rick and J.E get it on.

She turns a page and reminds herself why she _should not_ get earplugs. Because rules. (Sadly the rules were not put in place thinking of saving security guards from being traumatized).

There is a low noise, Hermione looks up just in time to miss the dust shaking from the ceiling. Onto her brand new comic.

Standing she looks down the blank beige corridor and reaches for her service piece. There is silence. She waits several beats before cautiously fingering her radio, “Roger, this is Mara, what was that?”

The damn hunk of junk reveals no response.

Sighing she moves to knock on the love birds door. Hopefully she wouldn’t a face full of Rick’s face as he was thoroughly fucked. Again.

“Hey! Guys you better fi-” but her words are lost as suddenly a deafening boom sounds and the facility _rocks_ (she ignores the deep and loud moans Rick and J.E. emit, likely due to the movement) and a split appears in the concrete below her.

Deciding that it was now or never Hermione slammed into the couple’s room, ignoring their yelping - and the low, slick sound of something being pulled out … of both of them -, Hermione leveled her gun and frantically opened her radio again.

“This is Agent Mara, what is the base’s status? Do you read me? Over.”

Scuffles from behind her (as her two charges dress) are barely registered due to her focus on the call.

“DO YOU READ ME? Over.”

There’s another pause, where J.E. hesitantly says, “Ï can move us out of here ...” they trail off, likely caused by Rick.

Another heart stopping minute before …

“I read you Agent Mara,” Mara could only think _it’s the boss, oh shit something went down_ , “the base has been … attacked, and is comprised, secure your charge and report to the main room, do not bring any unnecessary baggage, all will be shipped to the new, more secure location after this has been dealt with.”

…

Footage of Doctor Samson Cheong snapping one of the other figurines - found with the asset’s - play on every device in Waller’s room.

  
Shit just got serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? next chapter is the gathering of the squad and the first mission ... AS WELL AS DRAMA OMG
> 
> ALSO why aren't there any good Lex Luthor fanfictions? Like ...? Have you seen the Young Justice verson???

**Author's Note:**

> omg GUYYYYYSSSS tell me what you think???
> 
> Please review! I don't have a Beta so if there are any mistakes please tell me!


End file.
